And whether it panned out or not, the best thing he could do was forget that such girl as Marie had ever existed..
Which was all very well, as far as it went.

The trouble was that resolving not to think of Marie, calling up all the bitterness he could muster against her memory, did no more toward blotting her image from his mind than did the miles and the months he had put between them.
He reached the town in a dour mood of unrest, spite of the promise of wealth he carried in his pocket.

He mailed the package and the letter, and went to a saloon and had a highball.

He was not a drinking man--at least, he never had been one, beyond a convivial glass or two with his fellows--but he felt that day the need of a little push toward optimism.
In the back part of the room three men were playing freeze-out.

Bud went over and stood with his hands in his pockets and watched them, because there was nothing else to do, and because he was still having some trouble with his thoughts.