'You are slow about it,' said Zita. 'Father took an agency once for an _Illustrated History of the War_. It was to be in twenty parts, at half a crown a part, and four beautiful steel engravings in each, of battles, and generals, and towns. That _Illustrated War_ was such a long time in progress that some of the subscribers died, and others moved away, and some went bankrupt, and there was no getting their money out of some of the others. Father never would have anything more to do with concerns that did not go off smart like the snap of a percussion cap. It seems to me that this business of yours is going to be as long and tiresome as that of the _Illustrated War_.' 'You are dagging at me again,' said Drownlands sullenly. 'I cannot speak a word but it takes you contrariways,' observed the girl. He left the window and came to the table, leaned his hand on it, and stood with his back to the light. Still unable to make up his mind to speak, or how to speak, he began to tear up the blotting-paper into little pieces and to throw them about, some on the floor, some on the board. When the last fragment had left his fingers— 'Zita,' he said in loud and vehement tones, 'I suppose I am twice your age.' 'I should fancy more than that—a good deal.' 'Be silent and listen to me.' He raised his voice. 'I am rich. I have a large tract of land—fen-land. I have turned over every turf, and under each found gold. But it has not made me happy. I have had many contradictions, many sorrows, and some shame. My life has been blistered and full of running sores. I have ever been seeking and never finding, till I saw you. When you came into my house, then I knew at once that it was you I had craved for and longed after, and that you, and you alone, could give me what I can find nowhere else—happiness.' 'Give?' said Zita. 'I thought this was a business matter.' 'Let me buy my happiness, then, at what price you desire. I have told you what I am worth. When I see you, I feel the fire kindles in my heart; when I do not see you, it smoulders; and now—now I speak, it breaks out into raging flames.' 'I must leave this place, or you will go clean crazy.' 'No, you must not—you shall not leave it! I could not live without you, having once seen you. Zita, I must have you!' 'Me?' said Zita. 'With me go the van and the goods.' 'Curse the van!' 'You must not say that. The van is very fine, if the poultry would but leave it alone; and with the curtains and tassels is fit for a king.' 'Zita, it is you only that I want.' 'There are a lot of goods goes with me—scrubbing-brushes, mops, brooms, door-mats, pots and pans. Then there's Jewel—who is not bad when he does go.' 'You are trifling with me again. Listen to me. Hear me to the end.'