" He exploded,
then grew mighty serious. "That's rather a bore. I was counting on him,
you know. I thought you might want him."
Sanchia made no reply. About the corners of her mouth there lurked the
hint of a smile, which her wistful eyes belied. Chevenix watched her, but
could make nothing of it.
"He was a rum 'un," he continued. "The first time I saw him after you came
up here, was when I ran against him by chance in Norfolk somewhere. Spread
abroad he was--in flannels--all his things strewn about. He had a little
fire going, and a little pot on it. Doing a job of tinkering, he said, to
oblige a lady. There was the lady, too, if you please, sitting on a bank,
smoking a clay. She had a beard, and an old wide-awake on her head.
Senhouse introduced me, I remember. He told me he was on his way North--
Wastwater, I think. A planting job up there--or something. Rum chap that!
Oh, one of the very rummest! He asked me a lot about you. I didn't know
how much he knew, so I went very pussy. The chap was as sharp as a needle.
Spotted me. He said, 'My dear sir, I don't ask you what she is doing or
where she is. I ask you if she is well.' Then I told him a lot--about you,
and Nevile, and all this business.
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