n attempted yet
in any saw-mill on the Continent. We're going to work night and day for
a couple of months."
"This is all very wonderful. And are you indebted to Mr. Roscoe in these
things too?--Everybody seems to need him here."
"Well," said the mill-owner, laughing, "the whistle is my own. It's the
sort of thing I would propose--to blow my trumpet, as it were; but the
electricity and the first experiments in it I owe to The Padre."
"As I thought," she said, and turned to Roscoe. "I remember," she added,
"that you had an electrical search-light on the 'Porcupine', and that
you were fond of electricity. Do you ever use search-lights here? I
should think they might be of use in your parish. Then, for a change,
you could let the parish turn it upon you, for the sake of contrast and
edification."
For the moment I was exceedingly angry. Her sarcasm was well veiled,
but I could feel the sardonic touch beneath the smiling surface. This
innuendo seemed so gratuitous. I said to her, almost beneath my breath,
that none of the others could hear: "How womanly!"
She did no more than lift her eyebrows in acknowledgment, and went on
talking lightly to Mr. Devlin. Roscoe was cool, but I could see now
in his eyes a kind of smouldering anger; which was quite to my wish. I
hoped he would be meek no longer.
Presently Ruth Devlin said: "Would it not be better to wait till
to-night, when the place is lighted, before the whistle is blown? Then
you can get a better first impression. And if Mrs. Falchion will come
over to our home at Sunburst, we will try and amuse her for the rest of
the day--that is, after she has seen all here."
Mrs. Falchion seemed struck by the frankness of the girl, and for an
instant debated, but presently said: "No, thank you. When all is seen
now, I will go to the hotel, and then will join you all here in the
evening, if that seems feasible. Perhaps Dr. Marmion will escort me
here. Mr. Roscoe, of course, has other duties."
"I shall be happy," I said, maliciously smiling, "to guide you to the
sacrifice of the saw."
She was not disturbed. She touched Mr. Devlin's arm, and, looking archly
at him, nodded backwards towards me. "'Beware the anaconda!'" she said.
It was impossible not to be amused; her repartee was always so
unrestrained. She disarmed one by what would have been, in a man,
insolent sang-froid: in her it was piquancy, daring.
Presently she added: "But if we are to have no colossal whis
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