"Won't they balance?" he enquired, with a nod toward the heap of bills, and papers before her.
"Oh yes," she answered with a rueful little smile, "but—on the wrong side, if you know what I mean."
"I know," he nodded, watching how her lashes curled against her cheek.
"If only we had done better with our first crop of wheat!" she sighed.
"Job Jagway said it was mouldy, you know,—that's why Adam punched him in the—"
"Georgy,—go on with your work, sir!"
"Yes, Auntie!" And immediately Small Porges' pen began to scratch, and his tongue to writhe and twist as before.
"I'm building all my hopes, this year, on the hops," said Anthea, sinking her head upon her hand, "if they should fail—"
"Well?" enquired Bellew, with his gaze upon the soft curve of her throat.
"I—daren't think of it!"