F. Why did he imagine she was making this journey to England? She feigned interest. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. He saw the tragedy on the boy's face; but he was merciless. At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. Nothing to do; nothing for the hands, the mind, the heart. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall.
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