In worldly matters Gay was not fortunate. Clearing the recess the instant after his companion, he flew to the door of the inner room, and, locking it, took out the key. Women! He is always chanting the praise of some discovery; sometimes it will be a native, often a white woman out of the stews. Pity he's ta'en to bad ways so airly. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. " "All right, Mr. Here, Jem, take the gentleman's horse to the stable—see him dressed and fed directly. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel.
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