He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. ‘You see now how dangerous it is to play this lone hand. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. I guess we could go for a ride. " "Your own was equally so," said Jackson ironically. Almost worthy of your own fertile imagination. " He did not pause to consider how she had learned that he had imagination; he comprehended only the direct challenge. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag.
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