‘What is it?’ asked Roding. “We are both of us trenching upon forbidden ground,” she said. " "I'm a queer girl," she replied with a smile. "'Cos there's a gale a-getting up as'll perwent you, young freshwater," replied the tar. What reassured her, however, more than anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. Then a surge of rage welled up. He smiled inwardly. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts.
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