Mrs. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. He returned to the car, Cokes in hand. "But, as I was saying, I was most dreadfully frightened on the night of the robbery! Though so young at the time, I remember every circumstance distinctly. She shook her head. In the floor were set four ring-bolts, about nine feet apart. ” Anna glanced up. ’ ‘He doesn’t sound like a desirable parti.
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