"No, I don't!" emphatically. "But the odd thing is that she didn't strike me at all at first; except as being bright and alive-looking—not like some of the dead ducks you see around these parts sometimes—then suddenly right under my eyes she blossomed out. You never saw anything like it—eyes, hair, feet, hands, everything—perfect; and her voice a melody."
This was the most astonishing tale of highway robbery Carson had ever heard.
"What next?" asked he.
Bramham beat the bowl of his pipe against the balcony rail.
"Cursed if I know what next!" he proclaimed. After a pause he added: "I wish you'd come and help me sift it out, Karri."
Carson shrugged; his face grew a little weary.
"I am not particularly interested in girls, Bram; I'm afraid I couldn't help you much."
Bramham might have made a rude retort, but he didn't. He got up and leaned against a pole of the verandah, facing Carson.
"Well, I should like to have had your opinion, Karri. What with that girl with the saint's eyes, and Brookfield's slippery ways——"
"But where does Brookfield come in?"