“Ungracious little beast, I call her. All the precious paintings and statues of the divine family were here, as was the enormous wooden crucifix set above the altar. " "Devil!" muttered Jack, again grasping his pistol. Wild. "That's tremendous!" he cried. Outside the door he turned and stared at the panels. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. Not a star could be discerned, but, in their stead, streaks of lurid radiance, whence proceeding it was impossible to determine, shot ever and anon athwart the dusky vault, and added to the ominous and threatening appearance of the night.
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