“Well, never mind that, tell me about my present partner; do you know his name?” Marble said again, to turn the theme.
“I see the same large W.,” she said, “but it looks finer and handsomer.”
“Really, quite a compliment; anything more?”
“Yes; I see a great deal of wood.”
“Well, that it is the land that I work on,—is it not?”
“No; it is something in connection with your partner. I see him now. He is young—light-complected for a black-eyed person. There is something strange about his eyes; they glare at me like coals of fire. He is not very handsome, but there is a taking way with him that makes the gentlefolks like him at first sight. Splendid young fellow, ah!”
“Yes,” said Marble, “fine man; is he not?”
An Indian-like grunt escaped her, and she said, “You have not told me what that wood means.”
“Wood—why, it is his name—is it not?”
“Yes,—I think so. It is gone now,” she said, and prepared to lay aside her stone.