"But I not a good woman, Tchorch." Quin frowned and grumbled. "Damn nonsense, tenas." But it wasn't damn nonsense to Jenny. And most especially it wasn't so on Sundays, though on that day she had George Quin all to herself and the greedy Mill stood quiet. On Sundays she heard the tinkling church bells, and when the wind blew lightly from the east the sound of distant singing came up to her as she stood at the open window. She remembered what the good Missionary, the "kloshe leplet," had said about goodness, and badness, and the Commandments. There were ten of them, Jenny remembered, though she had been to no service ever since she lived at Cultus Muckamuck's ranche. "I velly wicked, Tchorch," she said mournfully. "I blake the Commandments!" "Humph," said George Quin, "don't cry about it, kiddy. I've kicked 'em all to flinders myself. If you go to Lejaub's hyas piah, I go with you, tenas." He kissed her. His bold and ready undertaking to go to hell with her was really very consoling. His statement that he had broken all the Commandments comforted her: it showed his good faith. Jenny had a wonderfully material view of hell, and her imagination showed it to her as a sawmill in flames. She had seen the Mill at Kamloops on fire, that is why. Now George Quin was the Manager of the Mill and the owner and a big strong man. She had a kind of dim notion that he would be able to manage a good deal even in hell. And besides she loved him really. There's no doubt about it, and even he knew it. The big strong brute of a man was very gentle with her, and let her "cly" a little when she thought of the good missionary (who happened to have been a very bad man, by the way, though many of them were splendid) and the wood fires of the diabolical saw-mill of which Lejaub the devil was manager. But he never knew how her feelings worked on her when he was away, and indeed if he had known there might not have been the trouble that there was. And he had entirely forgotten that he had a Bible in the house: the gift of his old mother who still lived in Vermont, far away to the East. The Bible was the source of all the woe that followed when a big deal in lumber took Quin over to Victoria and kept him there three days. He had more than half a mind to take her with him, and if her speech hadn't betrayed her origin he would have done it like a shot. And when he went Jenny cried as if he were going to cross the Big Salt Chuck or the Pacific. Though her mother had been a Hydah she knew nothing of the waters. "I much aflaid of Pete," she thought. But Quin gave great directions to Sam and he believed he could trust him. "My look see evely ting," said Sam. "Missus all light: my givee good chow-chow, hot wata, blush dlesses, t'at all light. My no lettee Missus go out? No, good, my no lettee."