"Then you're all the more the thousandth man!"
He caught her suddenly by the shoulders. His rough hands trembled; his jaw worked. "Look here, Blanchie! If you had a friend, wouldn't you do the same?"
"Yes, if I'd such a friend as all that," she faltered.
"You'd stand by his side 'to the gallows-foot'—if he was swine enough to let you?"
"I dare say I might."
"However bad a thing it was—murder, if you like—and however much he was mixed up in it—not like poor Scruton?"
"I'd try to stick to him," she said simply.
"Then you're the thousandth woman," said Cazalet. "God bless you, Blanchie!"
