She drew herself up, almost with an effort, as though she had been lost
in thought, and looked at me curiously for a moment. She seemed trying to
call back her mind to consider my question. Presently she answered me:
"Very little. There is something finer, stronger here. The atmosphere has
more nerve, the life more life. This is not a land for the idle or
vicious, pleasant as it is."
"What a thinker you are, Mrs. Falchion!"
She seemed to recollect herself suddenly. Her voice took on an inflection
of satire. "You say it with the air of a discoverer. With Columbus and
Hervey and you, the world--" She stopped, laughing softly at the thrust,
and moved the dust about with her foot.
"In spite of the sarcasm, I am going to add that I feel a personal
satisfaction in your being a woman who does think, and acts more on
thought than impulse."
"'Personal satisfaction' sounds very royal and august. It is long, I
imagine, since you took a--personal satisfaction--in me."
I was not to be daunted. "People who think a good deal and live a fresh,
outdoor life--you do that--naturally act most fairly and wisely in time
of difficulty--and contretemps.
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