"As long as you please, Sir," answered the matron, dropping a curtsey. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. “Please hurry. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. Because their human lives were so short, the happily married had no time to get sick of one another. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that. There was a very substantial profit in the transaction, for he paid the natives in commodities—coloured cotton cloths, pipes and tobacco, guns and ammunition, household utensils, cutlery and glass gewgaws. “They might do you good,” she remarked. “Thank you, ma’am. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls.
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