The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. "Hush!" said she, in a low, but agitated voice; "would you earn this purse?" "I've no objection," replied Blueskin, in a tone intended to be gentle, but which sounded like the murmuring whine of a playful bear. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be Capes’ friend. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. ’ ‘You are perfectly correct,’ agreed Gerald at once. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist.
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