"He's that!" shouted Scandalous, "and I was the man to do it. The lip that woman gives at the house would make you think there was nothing to do but run after her. I'll let her have it one day—her, and the gel too, hot and strong."
"Then you are a braver man than I am, Scandalous," Power said, moving on. "Keep the horses in. They may be wanted."
O'Neill kicked his heels in the yards at the back of the stables, pipe in mouth and an expression on his face to match the day. Power nodded.
"Pretty heavy fall," he said. "The river will be down by evening—and pretty big too."
O'Neill shook his head. "Do you reckon they are all right at the Pool? There's times the water fills that channel behind them, you know."
"They are right enough if Gregory knows his business. I've a mind to go across in the afternoon if the weather lifts."
Power glanced overhead. Another storm was spreading across the sky. He started to return to the house. The day was quickly darkening and the prospect looked dismal beyond contemplation. Half-a-dozen unoccupied people loitered in sight, and the single patch of colour was where the gins in brilliant rags smoked in the doorway of their hut. He went indoors with the hump. Maggie was laying lunch in the dining-room. "Twelve o'clock?" he asked.
Maggie went out of the room. He fell into contemplation by the window until Mrs. Elliott bustled in on a household errand and brought him to his senses.
"Don't moon about like that," she cried at sight of him. "Get some work to do."
"Find it for me," he said, turning towards her.