There was reason for Tilda's averted gaze. She had to watch the tug's deck. But why did her face flush?
"Because it isn't true."
"It got us 'ere," she retorted. "True or not, 'twouldn't do yer no 'arm to allow that, seemin' to me."
Although she said it defiantly, her tone carried no conviction.
Arthur Miles made no response, but read on—
'—this American gentleman paid our fares on by railway to join him, and gave us half a suffering for X.'s.'
"Is that right?"
"Sure," said Tilda. "Gold money is all sufferin's or 'arf-sufferin's. I got it tied in a corner o' what Miss Montagu taught me to call my shimmy—shifts bein' vulgar, she said."
'—So here we are, and W.B. capital. Which we hope to post our next
from Holmness, and remain,'
'Yours respectfully,'
'TILDA.
'William will post this.'