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 very steep. I think they've chosen a rotten time for the sale. But it was Hobbs's doing."

"Why rotten?"

"Well, you know the election is coming the twenty-first. All the fruit growers are afraid Laurier will be returned. They know Reciprocity would ruin them. They'll want to hang on to what money they have. They'll simply be afraid to buy."

"Why does Mr. Jerrold choose such a time for his sale?"

"I don't know. Suppose Hobbs urges him. He is the largest creditor. Mr. Jerrold is between the devil and the deep sea. If he waits till after the election conditions may be worse than ever. Imagine what it will mean to us if American fruit is allowed to be sent here duty free—and their season about three weeks in advance of ours."

"It would be a damned shame," agreed Edmund.

Derek sat down beside him, and after a pause, Edmund said: "I've asked her twice since that first time, but she's stuck to her guns. Won't have me. I'll get used to it, I suppose, but it's hard."

"I repeat that she doesn't love anyone but her father."

"No—I believe she loves you. The more I think over things she's said—and ways she's looked—I can't explain—but I'm sure it's you."

The lake murmured darkly to the leaning sky; fiery ripples curled below their feet; Derek gazed at that golden orb beloved by captives, and felt the galling of his chains.

Derek spent a restless morning. He could not bear to see the hurrying buggies and motor cars going to the sale. They seemed to him like birds of prey skimming eagerly to the scene of a calamity. He could scarcely believe that the