"Do you people really believe what you say?" he asked.
"Yes. Good, very good—for you," she answered, and passed through the door. With the sky overhead and the air of heaven on her face, she altered at once. "Thank you, sir, for the coal." She smiled brightly.
"Don't mention it," he said. "Come over again, will you? I want to talk to you." He looked into her eyes and she flushed with pleasure under the tan, or dirt, whichever it was.
He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a cake of chocolate (that was one of the things in which he was younger than his years). "I say, do you eat chocolate?"
She took it shyly.
He watched her bite a piece off and noticed the even regularity of her teeth, and the perfect shape of her mouth, though the lips were somewhat full.
"When will you come again? To-morrow? Oh! I forgot! To-morrow I shall be on all night. Will you come over early in the morning, or any time between midnight and eight o'clock in the morning? I'll bring you down some chocolate, if you like it."
"Thank you, sir."
"Will you come?"
"Yes," she answered, and her head took a gentle droop downwards, half averted, the long lashes swept her cheek and a rich red flushed beneath the russet brown of her skin.