ddenly, with a quick, bright, upward glance.

He started, looked at her straight, and told her. Yet, somehow, he did
it in such a way as to avoid banality, possibly because so naturally.

"What did I tell you once before?" she said, but she changed colour ever
so slightly. "That you must not pay me compliments. They don't come
well from you--I mean they are too petty."

It might have been his turn to answer with a "_tu quoque_." But he did
not. What he said was--

"I was answering your question. I was describing the picture I had seen
in my own mind. How could I have left out the principal figure in it?"

Again she glanced up at him, was about to speak, then seemed to change
her mind. If her personality had struck Denham as unique, the very same
thing seemed to have struck her as regarded himself. The intellectual
face, the tall, fine frame, the easy, cultured manner, half-a-score
other things about him--all these rendered him a personality clean
outside her own experience. Whereby it will be seen that the atmosphere
around Ben Halse's remote and primitive dwelling was, even at this early
stage, charged with abundant potentialities.

"And `the principal figure' in it is all floury and generally
dishevelled," she said at last, with a light laugh.

"That makes the charm of the study."

"Do you paint, then, Mr Denham, in addition to your other scientific
accomplishments?"

"No; I thought I could dabble in it at one time, but had too many
serious irons in the fire. Still, I'm given to drawing mental pictures,
and this is one of them, that's all. By the way, your father was saying
you were going to be kind enough to act as my guide this afternoon. Is
that so?"

"Oh yes. We were talking about it before you came out. Where would you
like to go?"

"That I leave entirely to you. By the way, yes. Will you show me the
spot where you shot the record head?"

"It's rather far, I'm afraid, for one afternoon. However, we'll see.
Well, I'm through with this job now. I'll put it inside. Look! there
are some people coming to the store, I expect. Yes, they are. Come and
see me shop-keep, Mr Denham."

She took the tin of dough into the kitchen, and returned in a second
with some keys.

Two women and a youth were approaching. Verna unlocked the door, and,
as he entered, Denham looked curiously around and above at the multifold
variety of trade goods. The atmosphere was inclined to be musty, and,
by v