The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it. "Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. " She rose. Maybe others that I do not know about. 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. He’s the handle of life for you. A little within stood a second door, or rather wicket, lower than the first, but of equal strength, and surmounted by a row of sharp spikes. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands.
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