The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. “I have made over seven hundred pounds in the last week,” he said. She ran from the knave into the women’s quarters. She could not bear the shame of it. Not one of them but bore the marks of having been engaged in a recent and severe conflict. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him. It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her.
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