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Updated: May 8, 2025
The girl was looking jaded, and it appeared that the manager of the elevator, who had all along treated her with a great deal of consideration, had insisted upon her going away for a few days when the pressure of business which had followed the harvest had slackened. Sproatly, as usual, had driven her in from the settlement.
Sproatly, who rose as she approached him, drew aside his chair, and she handed the basket to him. "You can carry it if you like," she said. Sproatly took the basket, and followed her into another room, where he sat it down. "Well?" he said, with a twinkle in his eyes. Mrs. Hastings regarded him thoughtfully. "I wonder if you know what Gregory did with those mittens?"
"I had to go round to see him, which is partly what made us so late, though Winifred couldn't get away as soon as she expected. They've floods of wheat coming in to the elevators, and I understand that the milling people can't take another bushel in." Mrs. Hastings glanced at Agatha, who understood what she meant, for Sproatly had hitherto spoken of Winifred circumspectly as Miss Rawlinson.
"Any of the boys would go out if they knew we wanted it." "Oh, yes," acquiesced Sproatly. "Still, you see, it's only a small room, and one of them has been smoking." Mrs. Hastings flashed a keen glance at him, and then smiled in a manner he did not like. It suggested that while she yielded to his objections she had by no means abandoned the subject.
Hastings bade Sproatly get their wagon out and she drove away with Agatha. During the long, cold journey she said very little to the girl, and they had no opportunity of private conversation when they reached the homestead where they were to spend the night. Agatha hated herself for the thought in her mind, but everything seemed to warrant it, and it would not be driven out.
The affront he had put upon her was almost unbearable. In the meanwhile, Mrs. Hastings walked up to Sproatly, who, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, had drawn back judiciously into the shadow. "Now," she said, "I understand. You, of course, anticipated this." "I didn't," said Sproatly with a decision which carried conviction with it.
Now the Company have the whole route and programme plotted out for me. They write me letters demanding most indelicately why I haven't done this and that." Winifred looked at him sharply. "Civilisation," she said, "implies responsibility. You can't live just how you like without it being detrimental to the community." "Oh yes," said Sproatly with a rueful gesture, "it implies no end of giving up.
He felt that he ought to do it, but there was the difficulty that he could not warn Hawtrey without embarrassing Sally. Sproatly hesitated in honest doubt as it became evident that the situation was a delicate one. He decided on the alternative. He would go back quietly, and keep Mrs. Hastings out of the room if it could be done.
Of course, as Harry gave him a share, there's no reason why he shouldn't do this so long as he does not overdraw that share. There's no doubt, however, that he has lost a good deal of money on the wheat market." "Has he lost any of Harry's?" Mrs. Hastings asked. Sproatly hesitated. "I'm afraid it's practically certain." Winifred broke in. "Yes," she asserted, "he has lost a great deal.
Unyielding and undismayed he had gone down to death she felt sure of that amid the blinding snow. Mrs. Hastings set food before Dampier. By and by Sproatly and Winifred arrived and they heard the story. After that Dampier, who had promised to stay with them a day or two, left Wyllard's friends for an hour.
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