He was happy as he had not been since his short June day; it was enough to be with her again.

Nothing, not even Brainard Macauley, could dull his delight.

And, besides, for a few minutes he had forgotten Brainard Macauley.

What more could man ask than to sit in the gloom with her, to know that he was near her again for a little while, and to talk about anything--if he talked at all?
Nonsense and idle exaggeration about young Fisbee would do as well as another thing.
"The young gentleman is an exception," he returned.

"I told you I owed everything to him; my gratitude will not allow me to admit that his ability is less than his stature.