Her sense of humour, too (for Lucia was dangerously gifted), that sense which more than any of her senses can wreck a woman--he would have liked her just as well if she had had none; but some, no doubt, she needed, if only to save her from the situations to which her kindness and her innocence exposed her; and she had just the right amount and no more.

Heavens! Supposing, without it, she had met Keith Rickman and had yielded to the temptation to be kind to him! Even in the heat Jewdwine shivered at the thought.
He put it from him, he put Rickman altogether from his mind.

It was not to think about Rickman that he came down to Court House.

On a day as hot as this, he wanted nothing but to keep cool.

The gentle oscillation of the hammock in the green shadows of the beech-tree symbolized this attitude towards Rickman and all other ardent questions.
Still, it was not disagreeable to know that if he could only make up his mind to something very definite and irretrievable indeed, Court House would one day be his.