She was quite an old woman--an Englishwoman--and as she placed the lamps upon the table she scrutinised the guest after the manner of a privileged servitor.

When she had departed Jack Meredith continued his narrative with a sort of deliberation which was explained later on.
"And," he said, "that is why I came to Africa--that is why I want to make money.

I do not mind confessing to a low greed of gain, because I think I have the best motive that a man can have for wanting to make money." He said this meaningly, and watched her face all the while.
"A motive which any lady ought to approve of." She smiled sympathetically.
"I approve and I admire your spirit." She rose as she spoke, and moved towards a side table, where two lighted candles had been placed.
"My motive for talking so barefacedly about myself," he said, as they moved towards the door together, "was to let you know exactly who I am and why I am here.

It was only due to you on accepting your hospitality.
I might have been a criminal or an escaped embezzler.

There were two on board the steamer coming out, and several other shady characters." "Yes," said the girl; "I saw your motive." They were now in the hall, and the aged servant was waiting to show him his room..