"Come up to the store quick and tell me what it's like at Dawson." With a farewell nod to Burrell, she went off with Doret, whose speech was immediately released again.
In spite of the man's unfriendliness, Burrell watched him with admiration.

There were no heels to his tufted fur boots, and yet he stood a good six feet two, as straight as a pine sapling, and it needed no second glance to tell of what metal he was made.

His spirit showed in his whole body, in the set of his head, and, above all, in his dark, warm face, which glowed with eagerness when he talked, and that was ever--when he was not singing.
"I never see so many people since I lef Quebec," he was saying.

"She's jus' lak' beeg city--mus' be t'ree, four t'ousan' people.

Every day some more dey come, an' all night dey dance an' sing an' drink w'iskee.
Ba gosh, dat's fine place!" "Are there lots of white women ?" asked the girl.
"Yes, two, t'ree hondred.