Not far away a man was riding towards the clump of trees where she was.
She saw, and hastened to her horse.
"If I told John all I feel he'd understand. I believe he always has understood," she added with a far-off look.
The draft was still crushed in her hand when she mounted the beloved horse, whose name now was Shiel.
Presently she smoothed out the crumpled paper. "Yes, I'll take it; I'll put it by," she murmured. "John will keep on betting. He'll be broke some day and he'll need it, maybe."
A moment later she was riding hard to meet the man who, before the wheat-harvest came, would call her wife.
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
And I was very lucky--worse luck!
Any man as is a man has to have one vice God help the man that's afraid of his own wife!
He saw what he wished to see, which is the way of man Her moral standard had not a multitude of delicate punctilios Law's delays outlasted even the memory of the crime committed Searchers after excuses for ungoverned instincts and acts Sensitive souls, however, are not so many as to crowd each other She looked too gay to be good Telling the unnecessary truth They had seen the world through the bottom of a tumbler What isn't never was to those that never knew