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Ben had scarcely adjusted his oars, when the gleam of a lantern was seen moving towards the bank. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. ” Behind this woman and a little to the side of her, walked a man smartly dressed, with desire and appraisal in his eyes. ” He kissed her, and handed her into the carriage. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. To be sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if all the world knew it.
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