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They looked upon him as one who shared Father De Rancé's madness, a tramp who was a hunter of bugs. It explained his presence in the Parish House; I fancy it also explained to some why he had been a tramp! Folks got used to him, as one does to anything one sees daily.
The breath, for that matter, was more than anything else, the look in his daughter's eyes the look with which he SAW her take in exactly what had occurred in her absence: Mrs. Rance's pursuit of him to this remote locality, the spirit and the very form, perfectly characteristic, of his acceptance of the complication the seal set, in short, unmistakably, on one of Maggie's anxieties.
It took them merely the briefest of periods, but it served to increase visibly the long ash at the end of Rance's cigar. At length he shot a hawk-like glance at Sonora and proposed a little game of poker. "This time, gentlemen " he said, with a significant pause and accent "just for social recreation. What do you say?"
Bert seized an axe and chopped on one side of two saplings, bent them together, tied them, cleared away the brush around them, and with Rance's help drew the tent cloth over them this was the camp! While they dug up the bedding and put it in place, Rance built a fire and set some coffee boiling. By the time they sat down to eat their bread and coffee and cold chicken, the grove was dark.
He would be at the worst, should it come to the worst, Mrs. Rance's difficulty, and he served therefore quite enough as the stout bulwark of anyone else. This was in truth logic without a flaw, yet it gave Mr. Verver less comfort than it ought. He feared not only danger he feared the idea of danger, or in other words feared, hauntedly, himself. It was above all as a symbol that Mrs.
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