'Where is she?'
'I tell you she is making direct for me. I knew the luck would come if I waited. Curse you! Get on one side, will you?'
'Don't swear,' said Langford, standing at the other end of the granite slab, and resting his hands on it. 'The money-spinner is a tickle (touchy) beast, and may take offence at a godless word. I see her, she has turned. You've scared her with your oaths, and now she is running towards me.'
'She's going to fetch some of your luck and bring it to my pocket; she's on the turn again.'
'No, she is not. She is making for me, not you.'
'But she is on my stone. She has brought the luck to me.'
'She may be on your stone now, but she is leaving it for my hand, as fast as her red legs can carry her.'
'You're luring her away from me, are you?' cried Hillary, blazing as red as any money-spinner.
'Luring! She's running her natural course as sure as a fox runs before the wind.'
'Stand out of the sun! It is the ugly shade you cast that chills her. She goes where she may be warmest.'