Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. ’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit. "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. Let's talk of this chap. "Oh, God! that I might die too," cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her. How could she tell him what indeed already began to puzzle herself, why she had borrowed that money at all? The plain fact was that she had grabbed a bait.
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