"I want Posy."
"I see no margin of profit for Posy if you want her, and nothing else."
"Posy wants me."
"No, you're wrong, my lad. Posy wants the man she thinks you to be, not the man you are."
He approached Posy, looking her over, appraising her points.
"You ain't a judge of quality yet," he said to her. "This young feller is a fake. Don't shake your pretty head! He's not good enough for you, and that's why I forbid the banns. Your pore mother thinks it's a matter of pounds, shillings, and pence with me. Well, I know the value of money, because I've made it. Money can buy nearly everything and everybody. Money can buy you, Posy."
"It can't."
"It can buy you from him."
He turned sharply, staring contemptuously at James, appraising him also as the young man stood before him, erect and defiant.
"James Miggott——"