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Updated: May 25, 2025
At night he was stalking across the country again, to his couch on the dry clover; and he thought not even of the Hindoo king. Mrs. Rolfston's school of theology was not of the sort which worries one with puzzling things, and he had been in a receptive mood. The next day he worked like a giant. In the early evening he found Jenny Bierce. She questioned him, but he had not much to answer.
He was not really embarrassed. The time had passed when that could be his way. But he was puzzled as to what to say. Some comment he made upon the quality of the season and upon Mrs. Rolfston's appearance of good health. Then he entered upon his subject with no link of connection with preceding sentences. "I but learned to-day," he said, "that the tie I wear was made by you.
And a ruthless young man of twenty and a tempestuous woman of thirty are as the conventional tow and tinder. And there were books she had never read in Mrs. Rolfston's library for she was not a woman of books which interested Harlson, and it was easier to read them there than take them home. And Mrs.
He changed his garb and took the way toward Mrs. Rolfston's. She had not looked for him sooner, though she knew men well, for she had seen his growing trouble and she knew his will. Her eyes blazed as might the eyes of some hungry thing to which food is brought. It was late when he reached his home again, and the next day he must read a book, he said, that he had found at Mrs. Rolfston's.
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