You think I am pretty because you see nobody but Kafir and Boer women, and it would be the same with everything.

I'm not fit to marry such a man as you," she went on, with a sudden burst of distress; "I have never seen anything or anybody.

I am nothing but an ignorant, half-educated farmer girl, with nothing to recommend me, and no fortune except my looks.

You are different to me; you are a man of the world, and if ever you went back to England I should be a drag on you, and you would be ashamed of me and my colonial ways.

If it had been Jess now, it would have been different, for she has more brains in her little finger than I have in my whole body." Somehow this mention of Jess jarred upon John's nerves, and chilled him like a breath of cold wind on a hot day.