Then, to his utter surprise, on an evening after dinner, when he was
seated in the settling dusk of the porch, intent on the grey movements
of his familiar owls, a quick step mounted the path, and James Polder
appeared.
"I wanted to ask about Miss Jannan," the latter stated frankly and at
once. Howat Penny cleared his throat sharply. "I believe she is well,"
he stated formally. "You will find it cooler here." It struck him that
the young man was not deficient in that particular. More, of still
greater directness, followed. "I suppose you know," Polder stated, "that
I want to marry her ... and she won't."
"I had gathered something of the sort," the other admitted. "It's
natural, in a way." Polder proceeded gloomily: "I'd take her away from
so much. And, yet, look here--you can shut me up if you like--what's it
all about? Can you tell me that?" Howat Penny couldn't. "I'm not to
blame for that old mess any more than you. And it's not my fault if
something of--of which you think so much came to me by the back door.
I've always wanted what Mariana is," he burst out, "and I have never
been satisfied with what I could get. And when I saw her, hell--what's
the use!
"Any one in Harrisburg will tell you I am a good man," he reiterated, at
a slightly different angle.
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