If it gets much thicker," he had threatened, waving vaguely
toward the west, "I'll go out to the Ohio, or the French forts."
That this was not merely a passive but an active state of mind was amply
expressed by his resolute movement toward Thomas Gilkan's house. He had,
ordinarily, an unusual liking for the charcoal burners, and had spent
many nights in their huts, built, like the charring stacks, of mud and
branches. But, organized by Dan Hesa into an opposition, a criticism of
his choice of way, they offered an epitome of the conditions he derided
and assailed.
His feeling for Fanny Gilkan was in the greater part understood,
measured; there was a certain amount of inchoate, youthful response to
her sheer physical well being, a vague blur of pleasant sensation at her
proximity; but beyond that he felt no attraction except a careless
admiration for her endurance and dexterity in the woods, a certain
relief in the freedom of her companionship. He had never considered her
concretely as a possible source of physical pleasure. He was not easily
excited sexually, and had had few adventures with women; something of
his contempt, his indifference, removed him from that, too. His emotions
were deep, vital; and hid beneath a shyness of habit that had grown into
a suspicious reserve.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25