’ She shrugged fatalistically. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. Giles's was lined with spectators. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. She did not therefore reveal to him that he had guaged her with accuracy. “You must do more than think of it,” he urged. “What a beautiful mare’s nest!” she exclaimed. A sophisticated woman would have translated the tone as a caress.
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