About the only moss I've gathered is what you see." He touched the dust-tarnished gold braid on his sombrero and his twinkling eyes invited her to mirth.

But Marianne was sternly silent.

She knew that her color was gone and that her beauty had in large part gone with it; a reflection that did not at all help her mood or her looks.

"I get my fun out of playing a free hand," he was concluding.

"I don't like partners.
Not that I'm proud of it, but so you can see where I stand.