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Here it is, sir," she said soothingly, and, stooping, picked it up and handed it to him. And as she did so she noticed that the bag was not at all heavy; it was evidently by no means full.
He took it eagerly from her. "I beg your pardon," he muttered. "But there is something in that bag which is very precious to me - something I procured with infinite difficulty, and which I could never get again without running into great danger, Mrs. Bunting. That must be the excuse for my late agitation."
"About terms, sir?" she said a little timidly, returning to the subject which meant so much, so very much to her.
"About terms?" he echoed. And then there came a pause. "My name is Sleuth," he said suddenly, - "S-l-e-u-t-h. Think of a hound, Mrs. Bunting, and you'll never forget my name. I could provide you with a reference - " (he gave her what she described to herself as a funny, sideways look), "but I should prefer you to dispense with that, if you don't mind. I am quite willing to pay you - we1l, shall we say a month in advance?"

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'As long as the novelty should last,' said I, laughing. ¡¡¡¡'Like enough,' he returned; 'though there's a sarcastic meaning in that observation for an amiable piece of innocence like my young friend. Well! I dare say I am a capricious fellow, David. I know I am; but while the iron is hot, I can strike it vigorously too. I could pass a reasonably good examination already, as a pilot in these waters, I think.' ¡¡¡¡'Mr. Peggotty says you are a wonder,'
oil painting I returned. ¡¡¡¡'A nautical phenomenon, eh?' laughed Steerforth. ¡¡¡¡'Indeed he does, and you know how truly; I know how ardent you are in any pursuit you follow, and how easily you can master it. And that amazes me most in you, Steerforth- that you should be contented with such fitful uses of your powers.' ¡¡¡¡'Contented?' he answered, merrily. 'I am never contented, except with your freshness, my gentle Daisy. As to fitfulness, I have never learnt the art of binding

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'The first anarchist,' Maud laughed, rising and preparing to withdraw to her state-room. ¡¡¡¡'Then it is good to be an anarchist,' he cried. He, too, had risen, and he stood facing her, where she had paused at the door of her room, as he went on: ¡¡¡¡ Here at least ¡¡¡¡ We shall be free; the Almighty hath not built ¡¡¡¡ Here for his envy; will not drive us hence; ¡¡¡¡ Here we may reign secure; and in my choice ¡¡¡¡ To reign is worth ambition, though in hell; ¡¡¡¡ Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven. ¡¡¡¡It was the defiant cry of a mighty spirit. The cabin still rang with his voice, as he stood there, swaying, his bronzed face shining, his head up and dominant, and his eyes, golden and masculine, intensely masculine and insistently soft, flashing upon Maud at the door. ¡¡¡¡Again that unnamable and unmistakable terror was in her eyes, and she said, almost in a whisper, 'You are Lucifer.'