“What isn’t?” said Geoffrey, coolly.
“So much of that going to Gwennas Cove, and rescuing young women from infuriated mobs, and that sort of thing. Lady very grateful?”
“Very.”
“Humph! Bewitched you?”
“Not yet.”
“Humph! Going to?”
“Don’t know.”
“Damn you, Geoffrey Trethick,” cried the old man, “you’d provoke a saint.”
“Which you are not.”
“Who the devil ever said I was, sir? Now, look here, you dog, I warned you when you came that I’d have no courting.”