Only in her eyes there seemed to be some apprehension of the fact that the young man’s clothes and manners were alike undesirable things. She caught at the idea. "'Odd's-my-life!—what's that?" he cried, greatly alarmed. Some part of the stiff vigour of the man seemed to have subsided. “What’s odd?” “Oh, everything!” She shivered, and went to the fire and poked it. She gloried in it: he needed her. The longest I can go is about three months, but I try and eat once a month. At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it.
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