Collis cast his eyes over the two workboxes which Walter West had produced for him from beneath the counter. He had to admit that he didn’t know a damned thing about workboxes, and it was almost embarrassing to meet a man who did. How could Hannah think of staying with a man like this, who spent all his hours surrounded by Newton suiting and washable buttons? He was probably worthy, and Christian, and an excellent husband, but a woman like Hannah deserved so much more. At least, he imagined she did.

‘Are … either of these to your liking?’ inquired Walter West, puzzled by Collis’s silence.

‘What? I’m sorry.’

‘I have more in my store room. I could get them out for you.’

‘No, no, don’t trouble to do that. These are — well, these are very suitable.’

‘Which one would you like?’

Collis reached into his pocket for his purse. ‘The — er, varnished one. That one. Thank you.’

‘Would you care for it gift-wrapped? That’s three cents more.’

‘Yes. That sounds like a good idea.’

Walter West tugged pink tissue from a roll beside the counter and began to wrap the workbox up. As he neatly creased the paper and folded it, he said, ‘You’re from the East, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right,’ said Collis. ‘New York.’

‘Recent arrival?’

‘Very. I came on the California yesterday morning.’

‘Come to look for your fortune, huh?’ Walter West smiled.

‘Something of that kind.’

There was a pause, while Walter West went to find ribbon to tie around the paper. Then, as he made a bow and pulled at the satin with the blade of his scissors so that it would curl, he said, ‘My wife’s on her way out here from New York.’

‘Is that so?’

Walter West raised his eyes. To Collis’s discomfiture, they were radiant with optimism and affection. Collis gave a quick, jerky smile and then looked away.

‘She had to stay behind when I came out here. She had a sick mother, you see. But she’s on her way out here now.’

‘You must be looking forward to it very much,’ said Collis.

‘I can’t tell you,’ said Walter West. ‘It’s been real hard and lonesome, setting up this place on my own, without her. We wrote to each other, of course, but a letter isn’t anything like having the woman you adore right by your side to help you.’

‘No,’ said Collis. He wished to God that Walter West would confine his remarks to the goods in hand, and stop making him feel so infernally guilty. The poor man seemed so vulnerably upright and well-meaning that to take Hannah away from him would be like shooting a wide-eyed, flop-eared rabbit from point-blank range.