Harlson felt in his heart that the girl's apprehensions were not altogether groundless, but, as was said, he was in perfect health and had a pride, and he cast away the thought and but made love.

And he prospered wickedly.

It was late when the girl reached her home again, and she went in tremblingly and silently.

So bent had been their footsteps that neither Harrison Woodell nor other living thing could have been near them and unseen.
Down the tree-fringed roadway and across the field to the barn went Harlson, and wondered somewhat at himself.

Into what had he developed, and how would it all end?
He was elated, but uneasy.