sight. But since she's gone—why, I've lost flesh; I've gone to skin and bone." It was true that the fellow was starved looking. "She's one of those women, I guess, that a man can't never forget. There's some like that. Sweet to love and yet—they make you what they want to—they eat into your heart like the consumption into your lungs. They're like a disease, and nothing but having them'll cure you. . . . I always think Fawnie's like a lily. . . . You'd say a dark lily. . . . Maybe . . . one of those gold-coloured ones with the heavy scent. . . ."
Derek was amused, yet irritated; and the air was chill. Again the hoarse voice of the steamer sounded. He shivered, passed through the gate, and closed it after him. Then he hesitated and turned back to Jammery.
"Look here," he said. "What about that beating. Was that a put-up game?"
"Just to excite you," replied Jammery, with the shadow of a smile. "The bleating of the kid excites the tiger. The old woman bribed Fawnie to take it. It was done the night before. The girl laid down on a bunk and never made a sound. I had to get out. I couldn't bear to hear the blows."
"You and the mother are a pretty pair of scoundrels," said Derek, "that's all I can say. And I advise you to get out of here while the going's good." He extended his arm towards the road.
Jammery drew back from the advancing hand as though he feared a blow, then after one searching look into Derek's face he turned away along the bank of the creek. When he reached the path that bordered it and led to the road, he shouted back something that Derek could not hear because of the roar of the water, and raised his hand toward heaven. A moment later he had disappeared into the fog.
