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gard for her interests. She tried not to hope that he would find marriage with Captain Baster in-
compatible with them.
Captain Baster awoke in less than his usual cheer-
fulness. He thought for a while of the Terror and boots and mud with a gloomy unamiability. Then he rose and betook himself to his toilet. In the middle of it he missed his shaving-brush. He hunted for it furiously; he could have sworn that he had taken it out of his portmanteau. He did swear, but not to any definite fact. There was nothing for it: he must expose his tender chin to the cruel razor of a village barber.
Then he disliked the look of his tweed suit; all traces of mud had not vanished from it. In one short night it had lost its pristine fresh-
ness. This and the ordeal before his chin made his breakfast gloomy; and soon after it he entered the barber's shop with the air of one who has aban-
doned hope. Later he came out of it with his rov-
ing black eye full of tears of genuine feeling; his scraped chin was smarting cruelly and unattractive in patches—red patches. At the door the breath-
less, excited and triumphant maid of the inn ac-