if she could avoid it.

"I guess I'm in your way," he said, rising.

"Not more than usual, thank you."

Taylor gave a little laugh.

"I guess you'll not be sorry to see the last of me."

Nora paused in her work, and leaning on the table with both hands,
looked him steadily in the face.

"I can't honestly say that it makes the least difference to me whether
you go or stay," she said coldly.

"When does your train go, Frank?" asked Hornby from his corner.

"Half-past three; I'll be starting from here in about an hour."

"Reg can go over with you and drive the rig back again," said Marsh.

"All right. I'll go and dress myself in a bit."

"I guess you'll be glad to get back to your own place," said Gertie
warmly.

She had always liked Frank Taylor--a man who worked hard and earned his
money. She did not begrudge him a cent of it, nor the pleasure he had in
the thought of getting back to his own place. He was the kind of man who