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Updated: May 11, 2025
"No, it's a pretty good life," he continued, after a pause; "good enough for me, and I intend to stay with it." Van Brunt lowered his head in a musing manner, and an imperceptible smile played on his mouth. No philandering, no dallying, no misunderstanding. Fairfax also was taking it hard, he thought, just because Emily Southwaithe had been mistakenly clawed by a bear.
Five years of this is enough to knock any man, and you are in an unhealthy, morbid condition. Further, Carlton Southwaithe is dead." Van Brunt filled his pipe and lighted it, the while watching slyly and with almost professional interest. Fairfax's eyes flashed on the instant, his fists clenched, he half rose up, then his muscles relaxed and he seemed to brood.
And not a bad sort of a bear, either, was Carlton Southwaithe. "But you are coming along with me," Van Brunt said deliberately. "No, I'm not." "Yes, you are." "Life's too easy here, I tell you." Fairfax spoke with decision. "I understand everything, and I am understood.
"I am glad to hear it," he remarked reflectively. "Prevanche was a bully fellow if he did have ideas about head-straps, the beggar. And he pulled through? Well, I'm glad." Five years ... the phrase drifted recurrently through Van Brunt's thought, and somehow the face of Emily Southwaithe seemed to rise up and take form before him.
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