'
Her heart beat fiery hot as he lifted his face to her. She breathed
heavily, averting her face, almost losing her self-control.
'And what do you take _me_ to be?' she cried, in real helplessness.
His face was lifted watching her, watching her soft, averted face, and
the softly heaving mass of her breasts.
'I take you,' he said, with that laconic truthfulness which exercised
such power over her, 'to be the deuce of a fine woman--darn me if you're
not as fine a built woman as I've seen, handsome with it as well. I
shouldn't have expected you to put on such handsome flesh: 'struth I
shouldn't.'
Her heart beat fiery hot, as he watched her with those bright agate eyes,
fixedly.
'Been very handsome to _you_, for fifteen years, my sakes!' she replied.
He made no answer to this, but sat with his bright, quick eyes upon her.
Then he rose. She started involuntarily. But he only said, in his
laconic, measured way:
'It's warm in here now.'
And he pulled off his overcoat, throwing it on the table. She sat as if
slightly cowed, whilst he did so.
'Them ropes has given my arms something, by Ga-ard,' he drawled, feeling
his arms with his hands.
Still she sat in her chair before him, slightly cowed.
'You was sharp, wasn't you, to catch me like that, eh?' he smiled slowly.
'By Ga-ard, you had me fixed proper, proper you had. Darn me, you fixed
me up proper--proper, you did.
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