"That's true, and I could give you many instances if you wanted them. But, all the same, there's much worth having that money won't buy. Ban't the root of all good, as some think, any more than 'tis the root of all evil, as other fools pretend—chiefly them as lack it. Money's all right, but not all-powerful. You, for instance—I know you well enough to know that money don't count for everything with you."
Sarah Jane plucked a spray of sweet wormwood that grew out of the wall within reach of her hand. She bruised it and passed its pale gold and silver thoughtfully under her nose.
"I'd dearly like to have money," she said.
"You would?"
"Dearly. I'd sooner have a hoss of my own to ride than most anything I can think of."
"A very fine idea, no doubt. And very fine you'd look upon one."
She smelt the wormwood, then flung it through the window and turned to him.
"But I wouldn't sell myself for that. I've never thought out the subject of money, and maybe never shall. Faither's always on about it; but 'tis only a sort of shadowy fancy in his mind, like the next world, or China, or any other place beyond his knowledge. Money's just a big idea to him and me. But I doubt if we had it, whether we should know how ever to manage it."
"Your father's no better than a wild man," said Jarratt impatiently. "So full of foggy hopes and opinions—nought practical about any of 'em. Now I'm nothing if not practical; and more are you. 'Tis that I've felt about you ever since you was wife-old. But what d'you think of me? People have an idea nobody could make much cash in a place the size of Lydford. Let 'em think so. But I tell you, Sarah Jane, that 'tis often the smallest stream holds the biggest trout. And I tell you another thing: I love you with all my heart and soul. There's nobody like you in the world. You're a rare woman, an' pretty as a picture to begin with; but that ban't all. You've got what's more than good looks, and wears better, and helps a busy man on his way. You'd not hinder a husband, but back him up with all your strength. Never was a body with less nonsense about her. In fact, I've been almost frightened sometimes, to think how awful little nonsense there is about your nature—for so young a woman. It comes of living up-along wi' nought but natural things for company. There's no lightness nor laughter up there."
He stopped for breath; but she did not speak. Then he proceeded.