CHAPTER IV

GOING HOME A land of open spaces, Gaunt forest, treeless plain; And if we once have loved it. We must go back again. —_Dorothea Mackellar._ “WE haven’t too much time,” said Mr. Linton, looking at his watch. The motor was standing before the door of the hotel. Norah and Jean were tucked into the back seat, knitting their brows over a lengthy shopping list. It was their last day in the city. Already, visions of B…