John looked at his feet bashfully. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. Wood turned to look at him. And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. ‘Come on. What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful.
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