"You must let me refer to her as Miss O'Neill," said Carter dryly. "You see, she's my employer—or was—and we're naturally not on intimate terms— Well, what's Miss O'Neill got to do with my marrying you?"
"She's always been opposed to it."
"Twaddle! Now, look here, my dear, you've been nervy and upset ever since that bit of a scrap at Smooth River. Now, haven't you?"
"I suppose I have."
"I'm sure of it. And it's not surprising. That was a pretty tough time for any girl to go through. Well, as I've told you, I've got my nose onto a fortune that's tucked away up in the bush, and I'm going to look for it. In the meanwhile, as I managed to screw sixty golden sovereigns out of that greedy old Balgarnie for curios that he'll sell for at least a hundred and forty, there's just that amount of cash to take you on a jaunt to Grand Canary for rose growing."
"Rose growing?"
"To put color in your cheeks, then, you pale young person."
"But I couldn't take the money from you."
"And pray who has a greater right to take care of you, and prescribe what's best for you, and look after you generally? D'you think I want to marry a wife who isn't in the pink of condition?"
"I like to look nice for you, dear, but I couldn't take that money from you now of all times."