Page 49 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

thing to say to you?’
Miles devoured her with his eyes.
‘It’s hard to marry a soldier,’ he said, with a recruit’s
proud intonation of the word; ‘but yer might do worse, miss,
and I’ll work for yer like a slave, I will.’
She looked at him with curiosity and pleasure. Though
her time was evidently precious, she could not resist the
temptation of listening to praises of herself.
‘I know you’re above me, Miss Sarah. You’re a lady, but I
love yer, I do, and you drives me wild with yer tricks.’
‘Do I?’
‘Do yer? Yes, yer do. What did yer come an’ make up to
me for, and then go sweetheartin’ with them others?’
‘What others?’
‘Why, the cuddy folk—the skipper, and the parson, and
that Frere. I see yer walkin’ the deck wi’ un o’ nights. Dom
‘um, I’d put a bullet through his red head as soon as look at
un.’
‘Hush! Miles dear—they’ll hear you.’
Her face was all aglow, and her expanded nostrils
throbbed. Beautiful as the face was, it had a tigerish look
about it at that moment.
Encouraged by the epithet, Miles put his arm round her
slim waist, just as Blunt had done, but she did not resent it
so abruptly. Miles had promised more.
‘Hush!’ she whispered, with admirably-acted surprise—‘I
heard a noise!’ and as the soldier started back, she smoothed
her dress complacently.
‘There is no one!’ cried he.

For the Term of His Natural Life