“You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. Once a thriving town before the Pestilence, most of the buildings and the piers had been destroyed or burned. Her pa was only the smithy. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. Very romantic and all that. The chance had gone. It was below consciousness, elusive; so he sent out a call to his friend, defensively. When he returned, it was always the same. " Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,—for the stout prizefighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,—and the procession again set forward. "Thus," replied the prize-fighter. And all the talk of the Miniver people and the Widgett people seemed always to be like a ship in adverse weather on the lee shore of love. Jack Sheppard warns Thames Darrell 284 VIII.
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