"By all means," returned Wood; "don't delay an instant. ’ He laughed. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. Wild is incapable of such baseness. Spurlock felt very well pleased with himself. He relayed many details of the location and the beautiful rivers of her home, a subject she never tired of. She wanted to think. I don’t think they do matter. It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so.
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