She sat down in one of the chairs--a trifle wearily, Dick thought, and he noticed that there were lines under the eyebrows, melancholy, pensive, that he had not observed before in the few times they had met her. As on the occasion of their meeting at the mine, she appeared to sense his thoughts, and turned toward him as if to defend herself. "You are asking yourself and me the question, why, if I dislike liquor, and gambling, and all this, I am owner of the High Light?" she said, reverting to her old-time hardness. "Well, it's because I want money. Does that answer you?" "I didn't ask you a question," he retorted. "No, but it's just like it always is with you! You looked one. I'm not sure that I like you; you look so devilish clean-minded. You always accuse me, without saying anything so that I can have a chance to answer back. It isn't fair. I don't like to be made uncomfortable. I am what I am, and can't help it." She turned her frowning eyes on Bill, and they softened. She relented, and for the first time in the evening her rare laugh sounded softly from between her white, even teeth. "You see," she said, addressing him, "I can't help being angry with Mr. Townsend. I think I'm a little afraid of him. I'm a coward in some ways. You're different. You just smile kindly at me, as if you were older than Methuselah, and had all the wisdom of Solomon or Socrates, and were inclined to be tolerant when you couldn't agree." "Go on," Bill said. "You're doin' all the talkin'." "I have a right to exercise at least one womanly prerogative, once in a while," she laughed. And then: "But I am talking more than usual. Tell me about the mine and the men? How goes it?" They had but little to tell her, yet she seemed to find it interesting, and her eyes had the absent look of one who listens and sees distant scenes under discussion to the exclusion of all immediate surroundings. "Have you met Bully Presby yet?" she asked. They smiled, and told her they had. "He is a wonderful man," she said admiringly. "He makes his way over everything and everybody. He is ruthless in going after what he wants. He fears nothing above or below. I honestly believe that if the arch demon were to block him on the trail, Bully Presby would take a chance and try to throw him over a cliff. I don't suppose he ever had a vice or a human emotion. I believe I'd like him better if he had a little of both."