"Who?"
"That feller I caught you with the other night—when Ern wasn't there. Black-ugly. What's he after?"
"Same as you, hap."
He sniggered feebly.
"What's that?"
"Me."
She stood before him; a peak armoured through the ages in eternal ice and challenging splendidly in the sun.
He hoiked and spat and turned away.
"Brassy is it?" he said. "One thing, my lass, you been in trouble once, mind. I saved you then. But I mightn't be able to a second time."
Behind Ruth's shoulder a dim face, bearded and spectacled, peered at him with the mild remorselessness of the moon.