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Updated: June 1, 2025
"See to it you make good. Your father's pension isn't even sufficient for two, and your own money is limited. Meanwhile, don't forget the Tristram girl's just as pretty as a picture." But Elvine's exasperation had passed. There was a slight softening in her eyes as they surveyed the handsome, elaborately dressed gray head and the careful toilet of her unlovely mother.
She corralled the information, an' drove her weak-livered man to do the lousy work. I tell you, ma'am, a woman who gits that low is pretty mean. You was sure right to figger on an insult when I guessed you was that 'piece. But I didn't mean it that way, I sure didn't." The marble coldness of Elvine's face as she listened to the man's words gave no indication of any feeling behind it.
But the Basins, though so low, were modest. "Can't one of the Basins start, 'He will carry you through'?" said the enduring Brother Skates; "where is Vesty?" "She 's a-helpin' Elvine with her baby," came now a prompt and ready reply: "she said she'd come along for social meetin', after you'd had Sunday-school, ef she could." "How is Elvine's baby?" spoke up another voice.
Elvine's reply was a blank stare, which had in it not a fraction of the recognition he displayed. Not for an instant did her regard waver. It was full of a haughty displeasure at the nature of the greeting. Nor did she deign reply. The man sat for a moment as though incredulous. Then he thrust his hat back from his head, displaying the brutal ugliness of his face.
The obvious relief in the boy's dirty face was more than sufficient to bring back the smile to Elvine's eyes, which, for the moment, had become almost painfully serious. But as she rode away leaving the boy gawking after her she quickly returned to the mood which had only been broken by the interlude. It was an interlude not easily forgotten, however. It had brought home to her a fresh revelation.
John D. Carruthers only saw in Elvine's unusual beauty an asset in her schemes of advancement. While Elvine displayed a cold disregard for the older woman's efforts, and went her own way. Elvine was strong, even as Jeffrey Masters was strong. But while the man's strength lay in the single purpose of achievement, Elvine looked for the ease and luxury which life could legitimately afford her.
They were steady, unflinching. That was all. Sounds came up from the ranch buildings. Voices reached them plainly. And among them Bud's dominating tones were raised above all. Nan's eyes were drawn in the direction, but her gaze only encountered the moonless night. "What is he to you?" Elvine's demand was strident. She was roused from her sense of her own sufferings, her own misery.
The unsmiling nature of his response had caught Elvine's attention. But she picked up her letters and glanced hastily through them. A moment later her eyes came back to his face. "Aren't you going to finish yours?" she inquired. She was seeking the meaning of that suddenly banished smile. It was almost with eagerness that the man caught at the opportunity.
Six weeks of all she had ever hoped for, dreamed of, in the lean years of heart starvation. The complete devotion of a strong man, a man who held a place in the world she knew. Every luxury wealth could purchase at her disposal, even to satiation. Her every whim ministered to, and even anticipated. This was something of the ripe fruit literally heaped into Elvine's lap.
A moment later he stood back again, and Elvine's eyes fell upon the mail lying upon the table. "Some for me?" she inquired, moving toward it. Jeff nodded. Then his smile died out. His gaze had fallen upon his own open letter. It was lying upon the table near the pile set aside for his wife, just where he had flung it down at the moment of her entrance. "Quite a few," he said.
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