“To be sure,” cried Geoffrey, “the vein that is to bring us all wealth and happiness.”
He hurried away, and Rhoda ran to the window to see him pass; while Mr Penwynn picked up the piece of tin ore, balanced it in his hands, and, recalling certain rumours of tricks that had been played upon mine-owners, he said to himself,—
“Suppose he should play me false?”
And directly after, when he saw Rhoda’s hand waved to Trethick, as he glanced back,—
“Suppose he should play her false?” for certain other rumours came to his mind. “Poor girl, it would break her heart.”
Just then, bright, flushed, and animated, Rhoda turned to him.
“No,” he said to himself, “she has too much pride.”