Her father was one, and he was a man who had scarcely been educated, and was certainly devoid of any complexity of character.

Stirling had made his mark by smashing down opposition, and, when that was not possible, grimly holding on and bearing the blows dealt him.

There was, as she recognized, something to be said in favor of that kind of man.
Then Kinnaird came up through the bush with his rod and a few troutlings, dry-shod and immaculate in a jacket that fitted him like a uniform, and Ida went back to camp with him.

She fancied, however, that her father or Weston, who sat still and filled his pipe again, would have come back with a heavy fish, or at least thorn-rent and dripping wet..