‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back. And guess what? I don’t sleep much, if you haven’t noticed. The cook tried to ply her with spiced meat and fish soup. She found herself alone in the train asking herself what she must do next, and trying not to think of herself as cut off from home or any refuge whatever from the world she had resolved to face. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. Your first treatment of a subject is always correct, always suggestive. ‘Is she the Frenchie we’ve been watching for then, sir?’ The lady’s furious features turned on this new target.
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