She
was impartial, almost impersonal; no woman was her enemy, and every man
was her friend--and nothing more. She had never had an accepted lover
since the day her Playmates left her. Every man except one had given up
hope that he might win her; and though he had been gone from Jansen for
two years, and had loved her since the days before the Playmates came and
went, he never gave up hope, and was now to return and say again what he
had mutely said for years--what she understood, and he knew she
understood.
Tim Denton had been a wild sort in his brief day. He was a rough diamond,
but he was a diamond, and was typical of the West--its heart, its
courage, its freedom, and its force; capable of exquisite gentleness,
strenuous to exaggeration, with a very primitive religion; and the only
religion Tim knew was that of human nature. Jansen did not think Tim good
enough--not within a comet shot--for Laura Sloly; but they thought him
better than any one else.
But now Laura was a convert to the prophet of the Healing Springs, and
those people who still retain their heads in the eddy of religious
emotion were in despair. They dreaded to meet Laura; they kept away from
the "protracted meetings," but were eager to hear about her and what she
said and did.
Pages:
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333