" "It wasn't the fumes of whisky that toppled him out of his chair. She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. Then all the embarrassments of the matter flashed in upon her. You go cheer him up. If I had been your companion only, and not your master, I might very well have been content to accept you for what you seem. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. I have heard of you from my husband. I've been hunting for this particular job for a thousand years!" She smiled a little sadly over this fine enthusiasm; for in her wisdom she had a clear perception where it would eventually end—in the veranda chair.
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