"Hem! Quite probable."
"But she need not to have been. Fool of a lad! I swear you might have had her."
"By what token, Mr. Yorke?"
"By every token--by the light of her eyes, the red of her cheeks. Red they grew when your name was mentioned, though of custom they are pale."
"My chance is quite over, I suppose?"

Fool of a lad! I swear you might have had her."
"By what sign, Mr. Yorke?"
"By every sign - by the light of her eyes; her cheeks grew red when your name was mentioned."
"My chance is quite over, I suppose?"
