The sufferer moved restlessly on her pillow. "I'd rather be out on Gool-land,[*] than like I be now."
[*] Gulland, a barren islet off the north coast of Cornwall.
Looking at the hollows of the face once so apple-round, Isolda's heart misgave her.
"I feel," continued Mrs. Byron in a dragging voice, "that I can't stand much more of this."
"Nonsense, you'll cheat the crows yet."
"Don't care whether I do or no. What is there for a woman like me? I've neither chick nor chield."
"Well, there's Leadville to think about."
Sabina sighed. "He'd cut a poor shine without me; but there—I dunno..." her voice trailed away into silence.
Mrs. Tom's heart began to beat more quickly. "Well," she ventured, "he's workin' pretty and 'ard now."
"He's got to keep the thing going," assented the wife.