Max took from the pocket of his overcoat the little flat bottle filled
with brandy with which he had provided himself; but the girl pushed it
away with alarm.

"Don't let Granny see it!" she whispered.

"All right. But I want you to taste it; it will do you good."

She shook her head astutely.

"I am not ill," she said, shortly, "and I don't know that I should take
it if I were. I see too much of those things not to be afraid of them.
And, now, sir, will you go?" After a short pause she added, in an
ominous tone--"while you have the chance."

Max still lingered. He had forgotten his curiosity, he had almost
forgotten what had brought him to the house in the first instance. He
did not want to leave this girl, with the great, light-blue eyes and the
scarlet lips, the modest manner and the moving voice.

When the silence which followed her words had lasted some seconds, she
turned from him impatiently, and leaving him by the door, crossed the
little room quickly, opened one of the two wooden doors which stood one
on each side of the fireplace, revealing a cupboard with rows of
shelves, and took from the bottom a few chips of dry wood, evidently
gleaned from the wharf outside, a box of matches and part of a
newspaper, and dropping down on her knees on the hearth, began briskly
to rake out the ashes and to prepare a fire.