Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. "You've given me more than the amount, Sir Rowland," he said, after he had twice counted them, "or I've missed my reckoning. "What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. If he was asleep, then she much regretted that she must wake him up. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. I’ll give you, say, thirty-five guineas a week clear of expenses, and half of anything you earn above the two turns a night. I suppose I ought to have been a man. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man.
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