"It's a mysterious transaction altogether. I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down. ” The ants seemed to salute in attention. ‘Nothing. But this time she wanted nothing for herself: she wanted something for Hoddy—success. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. ’ She shuddered, throwing her hands over her face. I have never seen a lagoon. As much as it killed her, she kept her mouth shut. Yet the fact remains that you do not understand me at all.
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