“I’ll do what I can for you, but you must go almost directly.”
“Why, certainly.” Tresco sat down, and drew a deep breath. “It’s good to look at a wholesome woman again—it seems years since I saw one.”
A smile passed over Gentle Annie’s face, and her eyes twinkled with merriment. “I see you’re not cured of your old weakness,” she said.
“No, my dear; and I hope I never shall be.” Benjamin had rallied from his depression. “On the contrary, it increases.”
They were a strange couple—the wild-looking man on one side of the table, and the fine figure of a woman who emitted a faint odour of patchouli, on the other.
“I suppose you know I’m my own mistress now.”
“It looks like it. I understood something of the kind from Jake.”
“I objected to be pulled about indiscriminately, so I left The Lucky Digger. A rough brute cut my arm with a broken glass.” She rolled up her sleeve, and showed the scar of the newly-healed wound.
Benjamin took the soft, white arm in his hand, and gave it just the suspicion of a squeeze.
“I wish I’d bin there, my dear: I’d ha’ chucked him through the window.”