“Then what did you mean?”
“I meant that it might have got me out of difficulties.”
“What might?”
Pasco did not answer.
“I should like to know how, if the store were to be burnt, any good would come of that. You’ve been drinking, Pasco.”
“I’m insured,” said he in a low tone.
“Oh, it has come to that, has it? Heaven help us!”
The woman beat her face with her open palms, turned, and went within.
CHAPTER XX
A FACE IN THE WATER
Kate Quarm was very happy on the moor. Her father had fetched her from Ashburton, and had lodged her in a cottage near Dart-meet, the point where the East and West Darts, rushing foaming from the moors, dancing over boulders, breaking over granite floors, plunging under tufts of golden gorse, and through brakes of osmund and male fern, reach each other and meet in one silver flood.