consistent temperance man."
"In everything but melons, and criticism of your neighbor, eh?" said
Demorest, pouring out a glass of the liquor.
"I hev my convictions," said Ezekiel with affected meekness.
"And I have mine," said Demorest, tossing off the fiery liquor at a
draft, "and it's that this is devilish good stuff. Sorry you can't take
some. I'm afraid I'll have to get you to excuse me for a while. I have
to take a ride over the ranch before turning in, to see if everything's
right. The house is 'at your disposition,' as we say here. I'll see you
later."
He walked away with a slight exaggeration of unconcern. Ezekiel watched
him narrowly with colorless eyes beneath his white lashes. When he
had gone he examined the thoroughly emptied glass of aguardiente,
and, taking the decanter, sniffed critically at its sharp and potent
contents. A smile of gratified discernment followed. It was clear to him
that Demorest was a heavy drinker.
Contrary to his prognostication, however, Mrs. Demorest DID arrive the
next day. But although he was to depart from Buenaventura by the same
coach that had set her down at the gate of the casa, he had already left
the house armed with some letters of introduction which Demorest had
generously given him, to certain small traders in the pueblo and along
the route. Demorest was not displeased to part with him before the
arrival of his wife, and thus spare her the awkwardness of a repetition
of Ezekiel's effrontery in her presence. Nor was he willing to have the
impediment of a guest in the house to any explanation he might have to
seek from her, or to the confidences that hereafter must be fuller
and more mutual. For with all his deep affection for his wife, Richard
Demorest unconsciously feared her. The strong man whose dominance over
men and women alike had been his salient characteristic, had begun to
feel an undefinable sense of some unrecognized quality in the woman he
loved. He had once or twice detected it in a tone of her voice, in a
remembered and perhaps even once idolized gesture, or in the accidental
lapse of some bewildering word. With the generosity of a large nature he
had put the thought aside, referring it to some selfish weakness of
his own, or--more fatuous than all--to a possible diminution of his own
affection.
He was standing on the steps ready to receive her. Few of her
appreciative sex could have remained indifferent to the tender and
touching significance
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