The man looked straight at her; she never forgot that look; she
seemed to be peering into two open and empty caverns at the back of
which were a pair of half-dead eyes, beyond reflecting either joy
or grief.

"Well, you see, I'm aware that you get what you require from your
parents and that you fish only for the fun of it, while at my home
we are starving."

The little girl flushed. Now she felt ashamed.

The seine-maker said nothing further, but picked up his cap (it had
dropped from his head while he was bending over the fishing-poles)
and went his way. Nor did Glory Goldie speak. A couple of fish lay
floundering on the ground, but she did not take them up; when she
had stood a while looking at them, she kicked them back into the
water.

All that day the little girl felt displeased with herself, without
knowing why. For indeed it was not she who had done wrong. She
could not get the seine-maker out of her thoughts. The old man was
said to have been rich at one time; he had once owned seven big
farmsteads, each in itself worth as much as Eric of Falla's farm.
But in some unaccountable way he had disposed of his property and
was now quite penniless.

However, the next morning Glory Goldie went over to the brook the
same as usual. This time no one had touched her hooks, for now
there was a fish at the end of every line. She released the fishes
from the hooks and laid them in her basket; but instead of going