But _one_ woman might be quite enough to upset a quiet man's way of
living! The moral pressure of it was so iniquitous! Your convictions
or your life! It was the language of a footpad.
To pull down the hurdles, and tamely let in Chicksands and his
minions--how odious! To part with Elizabeth Bremerton and to be
reduced again to the old chaos and helplessness--how still more
odious! As to the war--so like a woman to suppose that any war was
ever fought with unanimity by any country! Look at the Crimea!--the
Boer War!--the Napoleonic Wars themselves, if it came to that! Why
was Fox a patriot, and he a traitor? Let her answer that!
And all the time, Elizabeth's light touch upon his will was like the
curb on a stubborn horse. Once as he passed her table angry
curiosity took him to look at some finished work that was lying
there. Perfection! Intelligence, accuracy, the clearest of scripts!
All his hints taken--and bettered in the taking. Beside it lay some
slovenly manuscripts of Levasseur's. He could see the corners of
Miss Bremerton's mouth go up as she looked it through.
Pages:
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224