She 'll marry him and be sorry for it to her last day . He 's bad clear through and always will be . Why , look you , Teacher , most men pull up a bit when they 're courting a girl , no matter how wild they 've been and will be again . Paul has n't . It has n't made any difference . He was dead drunk night afore last at the Harbour head , and he has n't done a stroke of work for a month . And yet Joan Shelley 'll take him . '' `` What are her people thinking of to let her go with him ? '' asked Holmes . `` She has n't any but her brother . He 's against Paul , of course , but it wo n't matter . The girl 's fancy 's caught and she 'll go her own gait to ruin . Ruin , I tell ye . If she marries that handsome ne'er - do-well , she 'll be a wretched woman all her days and none to pity her . '' The two moved away then , and Paul lay motionless , face downward on the sand , his lips pressed against Joan 's sweet , crushed rose . He felt no anger over Byron Lyall 's unsparing condemnation . He knew it was true , every word of it . He was a worthless scamp and always would be . He knew that perfectly well . It was in his blood .
None XXXXX his race had ever been respectable and he was worse than them all .
If against at for in of on over that through