He had been the one to dress her in the finest silks and brocades, and here she was, displayed for the world to see in 248 drugstore makeup and the uniform of an old schoolteacher. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. But here she met with a check. “But, dear, think! He is your father. In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man.
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