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Updated: May 6, 2025
But you let yourself drift into a state of mind where you well, you see the result. I saw it coming. I didn't need to happen in this afternoon to know that there were undercurrents of feeling swirling about. And so the way you feel now is in itself a penalty. If you let Monohan cut any more figure in your thoughts, you'll pay bigger in the end."
An' three donkeys buntin' logs in behind." "Swift work. There wasn't a sign of a move when I left this morning," Fyfe commented drily. "Well, take the Panther around to the inner landing. I'll be there." "What's struck that feller Monohan?" the Dane sputtered angrily. "Has he got any license to close the Tyee? He says he has an' backs his argument strong, believe me. Maybe you can handle him.
It had been her purpose to call him in, to ask him to explain that which her brother had hinted he could explain, what prior antagonism lay between him and Monohan, what that "something" about Monohan was which differentiated him from other men where she was concerned. Instead she shut the door, slid the bolt home, and huddled in a chair with her face in her hands.
Ensconced behind a potted palm, with a waiter taking Howard's order, Stella let her gaze travel over the diners. She brought up with a repressed start at a table but four removes from her own, her eyes resting upon the unmistakable profile of Walter Monohan. He was dining vis-
Why, she asked bitterly, couldn't other people do as Jack Fyfe had done: cut the Gordian knot at one stroke and let it rest at that? So Monohan was in Seattle? Would he try to see her? Stella had not minced matters with herself when she left Roaring Lake.
He's always had plenty of money, he's always had whatever he wanted, and it never mattered to him how he gratified his desires. "The first time we locked horns was in my last year at high school. Monohan was a star athlete. I beat him in a pole vault. That irked him so that he sulked and sneered, and generally made himself so insulting that I slapped him. We fought, and I whipped him.
"But then I might have known I was wasting my breath on you!" "Well," Monohan retorted insolently, "what are you going to do about it? This isn't the Stone Age." Fyfe laughed unpleasantly. "Lucky for you. You'd have been eliminated long ago," he said. "No, it takes the present age to produce such rotten specimens as you." A deep flush rose in Monohan's cheeks.
Something in her look arrested Monohan. He glanced around, twisted about, froze in his tracks, his back to her. Fyfe came up. Of the three he was the coolest, the most rigorously self-possessed. He glanced from Monohan to his wife, back to Monohan. After that his blue eyes never left the other man's face. "What did I say to you yesterday?" Fyfe opened his mouth at last.
He dropped his hands and stood panting with his exertions. Suddenly he kicked, a swift lunge for Fyfe's body. Fyfe leaped aside. Then he closed. Powerful and weighty a man as Monohan was, Fyfe drove him halfway around with a short-arm blow that landed near his heart, and while he staggered from that, clamped one thick arm about his neck in the strangle-hold.
She resented being warned and cautioned, as if she were some moral weakling who could not be trusted to make the most obvious distinctions. Particularly did she resent having Monohan flung in her teeth, when she was in a way to forget him, to thrust the strange charm of the man forever out of her thoughts.
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