”

Which he was. There was a roar of laughter. They loved her that she was indomitable.

“Ah,” said Marriott. “Only a pole-cat says that.”

“Well, I am a pole-cat,” she flamed.

There was another roar of laughter from the men.

They loved to tease her.

“Well, me little maid,” Braithwaite would say to her, “an' how's th' lamb's wool?”

He gave a tug at a glistening, pale piece of her hair.

“It's not lamb's wool,” said Anna, indignantly putting back her offended lock.

“Why, what'st ca' it then?”