"
"Yes, it's unpleasant, but we can't help it. It's just Tom. How is your
work getting on?"
"Not as I would wish," said Gard, with a gloomy wag of the head. "Your
Sark men are difficult--very difficult, and the others who ought to know
better, and who do know better"--with more than a touch of warmth--"go
on as though I was a slave-driver."
"Sark men are hard to drive," said Mrs. Hamon sympathetically.
"They know perfectly well that I want only what is just and right to the
shareholders. They expect their pay to the last penny, but when I insist
on a proper return for it they look at me as if they'd like to knock me
on the head. It's disheartening work. I've been tempted at times to
throw it all up and go back to England"--at which Nance's heart gave so
unusual a little kick that she had difficulty in frowning it into
quietude, and just then Bernel came in with his gun and a couple of
rabbits.
"Who's going to England?" he asked. "I'll go too."
"No you won't," said Nance sharply. "We want you here."
"It's as dull as Beauregard pond and as dirty, since the m--aw--um!"
with a deprecatory glance at Gard.
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