I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. I do not know. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. It was just a shabby, stupid, furtive business that began between us. By the side of her plate was a small key. “Would you stand it? I’m going to clear out. He opened the door for her with a faint disagreeable smile. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. But this afternoon it discovered an unusual vein of irritability in her.
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