Dede smiled at him in acknowledgment of his words, but rode on silently. And that smile, he thought, was the most sweetly wonderful smile he had ever seen. There was a difference in it, he assured himself, from any smile she had ever given him before.
It was the smile of one who knew him just a little bit, of one who was just the least mite3 acquainted with him. Of course, he checked himself up the next moment, it was unconscious on her part. It was sure to come in the intercourse4 of any two persons.
Any stranger, a business man, a clerk, anybody after a few casual meetings would show similar signs of friendliness5. It was bound to happen, but in her case it made more impression on him; and, besides, it was such a sweet and wonderful smile. Other women he had known had never smiled like that; he was sure of it.
It had been a happy day. Daylight had met her on the back-road from Berkeley, and they had had hours together. It was only now, with the day drawing to a close and with them approaching the gate of the road to Berkeley, that he had broached6 the important subject.
She began her answer to his last contention7, and he listened gratefully.
"But suppose, just suppose, that the reasons I have given are the only ones?—that there is no question of my not wanting to know you?"
"Then I'd go on urging like Sam Scratch," he said quickly. "Because, you see, I've always noticed that folks that incline to anything are much more open to hearing the case stated. But if you did have that other reason up your sleeve, if you didn't want to know me, if—if, well, if you thought my feelings oughtn't to be hurt just because you had a good job with me..." Here, his calm consideration of a possibility was swamped by the fear that it was an actuality, and he lost the thread of his reasoning. "Well, anyway, all you have to do is to say the word and I'll clear out.
"And with no hard feelings; it would be just a case of bad luck for me. So be honest, Miss Mason, please, and tell me if that's the reason—I almost got a hunch8 that it is."
"Oh, but that isn't fair," she cried. "You give me the choice of lying to you and hurting you in order to protect myself by getting rid of you, or of throwing away my protection by telling you the truth, for then you, as you said yourself, would stay and urge."
Daylight smiled grimly with satisfaction.
"I'm real glad, Miss Mason, real glad for those words."
"But they won't serve you," she went on hastily. "They can't serve you. I refuse to let them. This is our last ride, and... here is the gate."
"No; please, no," she said, as Daylight started to follow.
Humbly13 acquiescent14, he pulled Bob back, and the gate swung shut between them. But there was more to say, and she did not ride on.
"Listen, Miss Mason," he said, in a low voice that shook with sincerity15; "I want to assure you of one thing. I'm not just trying to fool around with you. I like you, I want you, and I was never more in earnest in my life. There's nothing wrong in my intentions or anything like that. What I mean is strictly16 honorable—"
But the expression of her face made him stop. She was angry, and she was laughing at the same time.
"The last thing you should have said," she cried. "It's like a—a matrimonial bureau: intentions strictly honorable; object, matrimony. But it's no more than I deserved. This is what I suppose you call urging like Sam Scratch."
The tan had bleached17 out of Daylight's skin since the time he came to live under city roofs, so that the flush of blood showed readily as it crept up his neck past the collar and overspread his face. Nor in his exceeding discomfort18 did he dream that she was looking upon him at that moment with more kindness than at any time that day. It was not in her experience to behold19 big grown-up men who blushed like boys, and already she repented20 the sharpness into which she had been surprised.
"Now, look here, Miss Mason," he began, slowly and stumblingly at first, but accelerating into a rapidity of utterance21 that was almost incoherent; "I'm a rough sort of a man, I know that, and I know I don't know much of anything. I've never had any training in nice things. I've never made love before, and I've never been in love before either—and I don't know how to go about it any more than a thundering idiot. What you want to do is get behind my tomfool words and get a feel of the man that's behind them. That's me, and I mean all right, if I don't know how to go about it."
Dede Mason had quick, birdlike ways, almost flitting from mood to mood; and she was all contrition22 on the instant.
"Forgive me for laughing," she said across the gate. "It wasn't really laughter. I was surprised off my guard, and hurt, too. You see, Mr. Harnish, I've not been..."
She paused, in sudden fear of completing the thought into which her birdlike precipitancy had betrayed her.
"What you mean is that you've not been used to such sort of proposing," Daylight said; "a sort of on-the-run, 'Howdy, glad-to-make-your-acquaintance, won't-you-be-mine' proposition."
She nodded and broke into laughter, in which he joined, and which served to pass the awkwardness away. He gathered heart at this, and went on in greater confidence, with cooler head and tongue.
"There, you see, you prove my case. You've had experience in such matters. I don't doubt you've had slathers of proposals. Well, I haven't, and I'm like a fish out of water. Besides, this ain't a proposal. It's a peculiar23 situation, that's all, and I'm in a corner. I've got enough plain horse-sense to know a man ain't supposed to argue marriage with a girl as a reason for getting acquainted with her. And right there was where I was in the hole. Number one, I can't get acquainted with you in the office. Number two, you say you won't see me out of the office to give me a chance. Number three, your reason is that folks will talk because you work for me. Number four, I just got to get acquainted with you, and I just got to get you to see that I mean fair and all right. Number five, there you are on one side the gate getting ready to go, and me here on the other side the gate pretty desperate and bound to say something to make you reconsider. Number six, I said it. And now and finally, I just do want you to reconsider."
And, listening to him, pleasuring in the sight of his earnest, perturbed24 face and in the simple, homely25 phrases that but emphasized his earnestness and marked the difference between him and the average run of men she had known, she forgot to listen and lost herself in her own thoughts. The love of a strong man is ever a lure26 to a normal woman, and never more strongly did Dede feel the lure than now, looking across the closed gate at Burning Daylight. Not that she would ever dream of marrying him—she had a score of reasons against it; but why not at least see more of him? He was certainly not repulsive27 to her. On the contrary, she liked him, had always liked him from the day she had first seen him and looked upon his lean Indian face and into his flashing Indian eyes. He was a figure of a man in more ways than his mere28 magnificent muscles. Besides, Romance had gilded29 him, this doughty30, rough-hewn adventurer of the North, this man of many deeds and many millions, who had come down out of the Arctic to wrestle31 and fight so masterfully with the men of the South.
Savage32 as a Red Indian, gambler and profligate33, a man without morals, whose vengeance34 was never glutted35 and who stamped on the faces of all who opposed him—oh, yes, she knew all the hard names he had been called. Yet she was not afraid of him. There was more than that in the connotation of his name. Burning Daylight called up other things as well. They were there in the newspapers, the magazines, and the books on the Klondike. When all was said, Burning Daylight had a mighty36 connotation—one to touch any woman's imagination, as it touched hers, the gate between them, listening to the wistful and impassioned simplicity37 of his speech. Dede was after all a woman, with a woman's sex-vanity, and it was this vanity that was pleased by the fact that such a man turned in his need to her.
And there was more that passed through her mind—sensations of tiredness and loneliness; trampling38 squadrons and shadowy armies of vague feelings and vaguer prompting; and deeper and dimmer whisperings and echoings, the flutterings of forgotten generations crystallized into being and fluttering anew and always, undreamed and unguessed, subtle and potent39, the spirit and essence of life that under a thousand deceits and masks forever makes for life. It was a strong temptation, just to ride with this man in the hills. It would be that only and nothing more, for she was firmly convinced that his way of life could never be her way. On the other hand, she was vexed40 by none of the ordinary feminine fears and timidities. That she could take care of herself under any and all circumstances she never doubted. Then why not? It was such a little thing, after all.
She led an ordinary, humdrum41 life at best. She ate and slept and worked, and that was about all. As if in review, her anchorite existence passed before her: six days of the week spent in the office and in journeying back and forth42 on the ferry; the hours stolen before bedtime for snatches of song at the piano, for doing her own special laundering43, for sewing and mending and casting up of meagre accounts; the two evenings a week of social diversion she permitted herself; the other stolen hours and Saturday afternoons spent with her brother at the hospital; and the seventh day, Sunday, her day of solace44, on Mab's back, out among the blessed hills. But it was lonely, this solitary45 riding. Nobody of her acquaintance rode. Several girls at the University had been persuaded into trying it, but after a Sunday or two on hired livery hacks46 they had lost interest. There was Madeline, who bought her own horse and rode enthusiastically for several months, only to get married and go away to live in Southern California. After years of it, one did get tired of this eternal riding alone.
He was such a boy, this big giant of a millionaire who had half the rich men of San Francisco afraid of him. Such a boy! She had never imagined this side of his nature.
"How do folks get married?" he was saying. "Why, number one, they meet; number two, like each other's looks; number three, get acquainted; and number four, get married or not, according to how they like each other after getting acquainted. But how in thunder we're to have a chance to find out whether we like each other enough is beyond my savvee, unless we make that chance ourselves. I'd come to see you, call on you, only I know you're just rooming or boarding, and that won't do."
Suddenly, with a change of mood, the situation appeared to Dede ridiculously absurd. She felt a desire to laugh—not angrily, not hysterically47, but just jolly. It was so funny. Herself, the stenographer48, he, the notorious and powerful gambling49 millionaire, and the gate between them across which poured his argument of people getting acquainted and married. Also, it was an impossible situation. On the face of it, she could not go on with it. This program of furtive50 meetings in the hills would have to discontinue. There would never be another meeting. And if, denied this, he tried to woo her in the office, she would be compelled to lose a very good position, and that would be an end of the episode. It was not nice to contemplate51; but the world of men, especially in the cities, she had not found particularly nice. She had not worked for her living for years without losing a great many of her illusions.
"We won't do any sneaking52 or hiding around about it," Daylight was explaining. "We'll ride around as bold if you please, and if anybody sees us, why, let them. If they talk—well, so long as our consciences are straight we needn't worry. Say the word, and Bob will have on his back the happiest man alive."
She shook her head, pulled in the mare, who was impatient to be off for home, and glanced significantly at the lengthening53 shadows.
"It's getting late now, anyway," Daylight hurried on, "and we've settled nothing after all. Just one more Sunday, anyway—that's not asking much—to settle it in."
"We've had all day," she said.
"But we started to talk it over too late. We'll tackle it earlier next time. This is a big serious proposition with me, I can tell you. Say next Sunday?"
"Are men ever fair?" she asked. "You know thoroughly54 well that by 'next Sunday' you mean many Sundays."
"Then let it be many Sundays," he cried recklessly, while she thought that she had never seen him looking handsomer. "Say the word. Only say the word. Next Sunday at the quarry55..."
"Good night," she said, "and—"
"Yes," he whispered, with just the faintest touch of impressiveness.
"Yes," she said, her voice low but distinct.
At the same moment she put the mare into a canter and went down the road without a backward glance, intent on an analysis of her own feelings. With her mind made up to say no—and to the last instant she had been so resolved—her lips nevertheless had said yes. Or at least it seemed the lips. She had not intended to consent. Then why had she? Her first surprise and bewilderment at so wholly unpremeditated an act gave way to consternation57 as she considered its consequences. She knew that Burning Daylight was not a man to be trifled with, that under his simplicity and boyishness he was essentially58 a dominant59 male creature, and that she had pledged herself to a future of inevitable60 stress and storm. And again she demanded of herself why she had said yes at the very moment when it had been farthest from her intention.
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1
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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whoop
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| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
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3
mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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5
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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6
broached
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| v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
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7
contention
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| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
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8
hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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10
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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12
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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13
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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14
acquiescent
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| adj.默许的，默认的 | |
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15
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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17
bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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18
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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contrition
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| n.悔罪，痛悔 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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25
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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29
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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doughty
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| adj.勇猛的，坚强的 | |
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31
wrestle
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| vi.摔跤，角力；搏斗；全力对付 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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33
profligate
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| adj.行为不检的；n.放荡的人，浪子，肆意挥霍者 | |
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34
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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35
glutted
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| v.吃得过多( glut的过去式和过去分词 )；（对胃口、欲望等）纵情满足；使厌腻；塞满 | |
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36
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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38
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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40
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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41
humdrum
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| adj.单调的，乏味的 | |
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42
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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43
laundering
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| n.洗涤（衣等），洗烫（衣等）；洗（钱）v.洗（衣服等），洗烫（衣服等）( launder的现在分词 )；洗（黑钱）（把非法收入改头换面，变为貌似合法的收入） | |
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44
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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45
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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46
hacks
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| 黑客 | |
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47
hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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48
stenographer
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| n.速记员 | |
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49
gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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50
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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51
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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52
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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53
lengthening
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
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54
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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55
quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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56
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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57
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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58
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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59
dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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60
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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