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That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. "And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. He might be unfortunate, but he would scarcely be a fool. He thought he heard a scraping sound as he turned the handle. He knew she had been weeping. "It must look sharp then, or I shall give it the slip," laughed Ben: "the gale never yet blowed as could perwent my crossing the Thames. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies.
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