All this Woman-who-Diddery —no damn good. She was perfectly aware that the boy had gotten some sort of bug in his craw over her despite her sloppy, strange appearance. ’ ‘Begging your pardon, miss, but I think as how you ought to go back to London,’ Jack ventured. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. I would that you were my own. . He refused. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. “A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!” she exclaimed in a hoarse excited whisper. Yes, of course.
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