“And she knows how to use them.”
“You’re jealous, I’m afraid. Wouldn’t you want to look at the man who had saved you from an ugly brute, who met you in the dark on a narrow bridge from which you couldn’t possibly escape?”
“Perhaps. But why don’t you feel a little sentimental over the girl who saved you from a watery grave? You’re callous, I’m afraid, Mr. Scarlett.”
“Not at all: I’m merely flattered. It seems a pity I can’t stop in Timber Town, and see more of such girls; but I must be off to-morrow to get more gold. Gold is good, Miss Summerhayes, but girls are better.”
“Fie, fie. Gold and a good girl—that’s perfection.”
“They always go together—I quite understand that.”
“Now you’re frivolling. You’re making yourself out to be blasé and all that. I shall tell my father to forbid you the house.”
“In which case I shall call on Miss Varnhagen.”
“That would be all right—you would meet with the punishment you deserve. Marry the Varnhagen girl, and you will be grey in two years, and bald in five.”
“Well, I’m going to the gold-fields to-morrow.”