Anything was better than to sit at home and brood.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE SPUR.
A month passed.
During that thirty-day period she received a brief note from Bill.
Just a few lines to say:
Hit the ranch yesterday, little person. Looks good to me. Have had
Lauer do some work on it this summer. Went fishing last night about
sundown. Trout were rising fine. Nailed a two-pounder. He jumped a
foot clear of the water after my fly, and gave me a hot time for about
ten minutes. Woke up this morning at daylight and found a buck deer
with two lady friends standing in the middle of the clearing. I loafed
a fews days in Fort George, sort of thinking I might hear from you. Am
sending this out by Jake. Will start for the Klappan about day after
to-morrow.
She had not answered his first letter. She had tried to. But somehow
when she tried to set pen to paper the right words would not come. She
lacked his facility of expression. There was so much she wanted to
say, so little she seemed able to say. As the days passed she felt
less sure of her ground, less sure that she had not sacrificed
something precious to a vagary of self, an obsession of her own ego.
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