“She’d work hard too, but Nature and not her will shortens her great powers.  She grows into a mountain of flesh and her substance prevents activity; but the mind is there unclouded.  In my case the flesh doesn’t gain on me and work agrees with my system.”

“You’re a very wonderful man,” declared Estelle; “but no doubt plenty of people tell you that.”

“Only by comparison,” he explained.  “The wonder is all summed up in the one word ‘method,’ coupled with a good digestion and no strong drink.  I’d like to talk more on the subject, but I must be going.”

“And tell them to put in the pony.  We must be going, too.”

On the way home Estelle tried to interest Abel in sport.  She had been very careful all day to keep Raymond off her lips, but now intentionally she spoke of him.  It was done with care and she only named him casually in the course of general remarks.  Thus she hoped that, in time, he would allow her to mention his father without opposition.

“I think you ought to play some games with your old friends at Bridetown these holidays,” she said.

“I haven’t any old friends there.  I don’t want friends.  I never made that fire you promised.”

“You shall make it next time we come out; and everybody wants friends.  You can’t get on without friends.  And the good of games is that you make friends.  I’m very keen on golf now, though I never thought I should like sport.  Did you play any cricket at school?”

“Yes, but I don’t care about it.”

“How did you play?  You ought to be rather a dab at it.”

“I played very well and was in the second eleven.  But I don’t care about it.  It’s all right at school, but there are better things to do in the holidays.”

“If you’re a good cricketer, you might get some matches.  Your father is a very good cricketer, and would have played for the county if he’d been able to practise enough.  And Mister Roberts at the mill is a splendid player.”

His nervous face twitched and his instant passion ran into his whip hand.  He gave the astonished pony a lash and made it start across the road, so that Estelle was nearly thrown from her seat.

“Don’t!  Don’t!” she said.  “What’s the matter?”

But she knew.

He showed his teeth.

“I won’t hear his name—­I won’t hear it.  I hate him, I hate him.  Take the reins—­I’ll walk.  You’ve spoilt everything now.  I always wish he was dead when I hear his name, and I wish he was dead this minute.”

“My dear Abel, I’m sorry.  I didn’t think you felt so bad as that about him.  He doesn’t feel at all like that about you.”

“I hate him, I tell you, and I’m not the only one that hates him.  And I don’t care what he feels about me.  He’s my greatest enemy on earth, and people who understand have told me so, and I won’t be beholden to him for anything—­and—­and you can stick up for him till you’re black in the face for all I care.  I know he’s bad and I’ll be his enemy always.”