” “Is it necessary,” he said, “for me to tell you——” “Stop, please,” she said firmly. " Her attitude now entirely sisterly, he ceased to be afraid of her; there was never anything in her eyes (so far as he could see) but friendly interest in all he said or did. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. ” “That is provokingly indefinite,” he answered, a little ruefully. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God. Considering his convictions he felt that his remark was a generous one. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. .
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