thousand pounds to-morrow if I were allowed to--to get you a whole
summer of pleasant holidays."

There was something about the plain-spoken honesty of this avowal that
touched her keenly. Wild and impossible as the suggestion was, it told
her at least what one person in the world thought of her. She said to
him, with her eyes cast down, "I like to hear you speak like that--not
for my own sake, but I know there is nothing generous and kindly that
you wouldn't do at a mere moment's impulse. But I hope you don't think I
have been grumbling over my lot on such a day as this? Oh no: I see too
much of other people's way of living to complain of my own. I have every
reason to be contented and happy."

"Yes, you're a deal too contented and happy," said he with an impatient
shrug. "You want somebody to alter all that, and see that you get more
to be contented and happy about."

She rose: he gave her his hand to help her up. But he did not surrender
her hand then, for the path up the slope was a deep and difficult one,
and she could fairly rely on his strength and sureness of foot.

"But you are not content, Mr. Trelyon," she said. "I always notice that
whenever you get to a dangerous place you are never satisfied unless you
are putting your life in peril. Wouldn't you like to ride your black
horse down the face of this precipice? or wouldn't you like to clamber
down blindfold? Why does a man generally seem to be anxious to get rid
of his life?"

"Perhaps it ain't of much use to him," he said coolly.