Her fright, and above all her pretty solicitude even after he had assuaged her fears by explaining that he occasionally suffered from an old strain which he had sustained a few years before while working in the lumber camps, tried his composure to the utmost.

For days, the memory of the look in her eyes as she bent over him remained in his mind.  But he was careful not to betray himself again.

It was to prevent any repetition that he first resorted to working over something while she was reading.  While doubly occupied with listening and working with his hands, he found that his mind was less apt to go off on a tangent and indulge in painful and profitless speculations.

For, after all, as she had said, how could he prevent her going if her heart was set on it?  That she had given no outward sign of being unhappy or discontented argued nothing.  She was far too shrewd to spend her strength in unavailing effort.  Pride and ordinary prudence would counsel waiting for a more favorable opportunity than had yet been afforded her.  She would not soon forget the lesson of the night he had beaten down her opposition and dragged her pride in the dust.

And would she ever forgive it?  That was a question that he asked himself almost daily without finding any answer.  There was nothing in her manner to show that she harbored resentment or that she was brooding over plans for escaping from the bondage of her life.  But women, in his experience, were deep, even cunning.  Once given a strong purpose, women like Nora, pursued it to the end.  Women of this type were not easily diverted by side issues as men so often were.

For weeks he lived in daily apprehension of Ed’s arrival.  There was no one else she could turn to, and evoking his aid did not necessarily argue that she must submit again to Gertie’s grudging hospitality.  Ed might easily, unknown to his masterful better-half, furnish the funds to return to England.  She had not written him that he knew of.  As a matter of fact, she had not, but she might have given the letter to Sid Sharp to post on one of his not infrequent trips into Prentice.  It would only have been by chance that Sid would speak of so trifling a matter.  He was much too proud to question him.

But as time went on and no Ed appeared, he began, if not exactly to hope that, after all she was finding the life not unbearable, at least her leaving was a thing of the more or less remote future.  He summoned all his philosophy to his aid.  Perhaps by the time she did make up her mind to quit him he would have acquired some little degree of resignation, or at least would not be caught as unprepared as he frankly confessed himself to be at the moment.