“Now, tell me; what do you do?”
“What do I do?” asked Orde, puzzled.
“Yes. Everybody does something out West here. It's a disgrace not to do something, isn't it?”
“Oh, my business! I'm a river-driver just now.”
“A river-driver?” she repeated, once more leaning forward. “Why, I've just been hearing a great deal about you.”
“That so?” he inquired.
“Yes, from Mrs. Baggs.”
“Oh!” said Orde. “Then you know what a drunken, swearing, worthless lot of bums and toughs we are, don't you?”
For the first time, in some subtle way she broke the poise of her attitude.
“There is Hell's Half-Mile,” she reminded him.