His thoughts had gone back to the previous night.
He was surprised when she suddenly alluded to the episode.
"There's that man Ralph Warrender," she said.

"I guess the woman that's married him thinks he's A1 and gilt-edged now, poor soul.

But he's just a miserable patchwork mummy really, and there isn't any white in him--no, not a speck." She spoke with such intense, even violent bitterness that Merefleet was utterly astonished.

He stood gravely contemplating her flushed, upturned face.
"What has he done to make you say that, I wonder ?" he said.
"Nothing to me," she answered quickly.

"Nothing at all to me.