'
'Drifting! It wasn't drifting. It was a mad plunge down the rapids, and
it is only lately I have begun to think what a close shave I had of it.
The horror of those days, when I thought that despatch was going to New
York, completely obliterated any other feeling in regard to her. If I had
found she was a hopeless flirt, or something of that kind, who was
trifling with me, I should have been very much shocked, of course, but I
should have thought about my own feelings. Now, the curious thing is that
I never began to think about them till I got to London.'
'Very well, Wentworth; I wouldn't think about them now, if I were you.'
'No, I don't intend to, particularly. The fact that I talk over them with
you shows that the impression was not very deep.'
Wentworth drew a long breath that might have been mistaken for a sigh, if
he had not just before explained how completely free he was from the
thraldom in which Miss Brewster at one time held him.
'Still, she was a very pretty girl, John. You can't deny that.'
'I have no wish to deny it. I simply don't want to think about her at
all.'
'No, and we don't need to, thank goodness. But she _was_ very bright and
clever. Of course you didn't know her as I did. I never before met
anyone who--Well, that's all past and done with. I told her all about our
mica-mine, and she gave me much sage advice.'
Kenyon smiled, but held his peace.
'Oh yes, I know what you are thinking of.
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