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Save in a martyr's grave;

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She giggled. "I only do it for love. I told you I just manage the place. They call me Tiffy."

It so happened that this chair was opposite a narrow passage, which ended in the little circular room where I had seen Uriah Heep's pale face looking out of the window. Uriah, having taken the pony to a neighbouring stable, was at work at a desk in this room, which had a brass frame on the top to hang paper upon, and on which the writing he was making a copy of was then hanging. Though his face was towards me, I thought, for some time, the writing being between us, that he could not see me; but looking that way more attentively, it made me uncomfortable to observe that, every now and then, his sleepless eyes would come below the writing, like two red suns, and stealthily stare at me for I dare say a whole minute at a time, during which his pen went, or pretended to go, as cleverly as ever. I made several attempts to get out of their way - such as standing on a chair to look at a map on the other side of the room, and poring over the columns of a Kentish newspaper - but they always attracted me back again; and whenever I looked towards those two red suns, I was sure to find them, either just rising or just setting. 'Sure! Here, put him alongside the other.' Bond felt himself being lowered. It was cooler now. He opened his eyes. A big round Brooklyn face was bent over his. The eyes met his and smiled. The metal supports of the stretcher touched the ground. The man said, 'How ya feelin', mister?'

She laughed. It was a pity, because she was a pretty girl, but the teeth had been sharpened by munching raw sugar cane. "What a hope! I'm sort of, well sort of manager. There's the cafe"-she pronounced it caif-"and mebbe you heard we got other attractions."

There was a faint groan on Bond's right, followed by a crash of glass and china as Krebs's head fell forward on to the table.

'Well! Don't cry!' said Miss Betsey. 'You were not equally matched, child - if any two people can be equally matched - and so I asked the question. You were an orphan, weren't you?' 'Yes.'

'Mes excuses, Monsieur Bond,' added the chef de partie obsequiously.