“Well, Esau,” I said, “I’m a long time growing well.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You’re getting on now fast. I say, do you ever think about that gold now?”
“Oh, yes,” I replied, with a shudder; “often.”
“Well,” he said, in an ill-used tone, “you needn’t think of the accident too. For it was an accident, you know.”
“Yes, we’ve talked about that times enough, all those weary months.”
“Yes, it was tiring, and it put a stop to all the hunting and shooting we might have had. But it’s been good as well as bad. You missed lots of bad weather, and cold, and snow.”
“What’s the day of the month?” I said.
“Day of the month? I dunno. End of March, they say, and it’s going to be fine weather now.”
“Has Mr Raydon ever said anything to you about the gold?”
“No, never a word. But I say, it do seem a pity not to get more of it, don’t it?”