I'm sorry, and although your refusal hurts, don't think I'm altogether
selfish. Jim is a good sort, but he's not the man for you."

Evelyn colored and her eyes sparkled, and then the firelight left her
face.

"To some extent that is so, Lance. I expect Jim has drawbacks, but
he's flesh and blood; red blood, I think they say in Canada. You know
what you and I are; we have cultivated out our vulgar passions. At
least, I thought I had!"

"Has Jim persuaded you that you were mistaken?"

"He may persuade me. After all, there is some satisfaction in being
human."

Mordaunt made a sign of vague agreement. "I thought I was a
philosopher, but I'm frankly savage now. However, I don't imagine you
will let passion guide you very long." He paused, and after a few
moments resumed: "If you find you were deceived and romance gets stale,
you will find me waiting. I think you know this, and there is no more
to be said."

"There is no use in waiting, Lance," Evelyn replied. "I have made the
plunge. It cost me an effort, but I feel braced. Jim is bracing; like
cold water or a boisterous wind. You would have kept me in an
enervating calm. Well, I'm tired of artificial tranquillity; I'm going
to try my luck in the struggle of life with Jim."

She let him go and he started for Dryholm in a thoughtful mood. Her
refusal had hurt him, but he would not dwell on this. He was
half-afraid to do so and wanted to think about her. She was pluckier
than he had imagined and was obviously sincere, since she did not know
Jim would be rich, but he doubted if she could keep it up. Jim was
rude and tempestuous, and she would not be satisfied with him long.
The trouble was the romantic impulse might sustain her until it was too
late, for Jim would, no doubt, urge an early marriage.

Mordaunt's face got hard as he thought about this, and he was rather
surprised by the anger that fired his blood. He had cultivated a
philosophic selfishness, but it no longer supported him. He hated Jim,
and felt troubled about Evelyn. Luck was with the headstrong fool; he
had swept her off her feet, but she would recover her balance and then
she would pay. Mordaunt clenched his fist and raged with helpless
savageness. It was long since he had indulged his passions, and now
his control had gone the reaction was sharp.

He got cooler and began to look about. There was a moon, the evening
was calm, and the dew sparkled on the grass by the hedgerows