He had narrowed down into the most selfish, exacting,
egotistical creature it is possible to imagine. I don't wonder; I hardly
see how he could help it; I don't blame him. But it wouldn't make life
easier for a wife, would it? A helpless husband who can't cross a road
without his wife at his elbow is bad enough. But make him a selfish
beast into the bargain, full of questions, jealous of her power to go
where she will, curious as to every person with whom she speaks--and
what then? My God, I am glad that girl refused me. For that I am most
grateful."
"She refused you?" asked Calder, and the relief passed from his face and
voice.
"Twice," said Durrance. "What an escape! You see, Calder, I shall be
more trouble even than the man I told you of. I am not clever. I can't
sit in a chair and amuse myself by thinking, not having any intellect to
buck about. I have lived out of doors and hard, and that's the only sort
of life that suits me. I tell you, Calder, you won't be very anxious for
much of my society in a year's time," and he laughed again and with the
same harshness.
"Oh, stop that," said Calder; "I will read the rest of your letters to
you."
He read them, however, without much attention to their contents.
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