she almost repented of the bargain.  Within a year, he had tired of her and was openly unfaithful in every port upon the lakes, a vigorous, lawless debauchee.  His ship-building was done in a distant port, and he rarely visited his wife.  He rather feared her, mastiff as he was, for here was the keener intelligence, and her moods, at times, were desperate as his.  So he furnished her abundant income and was content to let it go at that.  It pleased her, also, to have it that way.

Harlson thought of the woman, and wondered somewhat.  Black-haired, black-eyed, white-skinned, deep of bust and with a graceful and powerful swing of movement, she was a woman, physically considered, not of the common herd.  She was a lioness, yet not quite the grand lioness of the desert.  She lacked somewhat of dignity and grandeur of countenance, and had more of alertness and of craft.  She was, though dark, more like the tawny beast of the Rocky Mountains, the California lion, as that great cougar is called, supple, full of moods and passion, and largely cat-like.  She had filled his eye casually.  Why had she sent him the tie, the silken thing in green and gold?

He thought and pulled his long limbs together and rose till he was sitting, and decided that it was but courteous, but his duty as a gentleman, to wander over to her house and thank her for her remembrance of him.  It was but an expression of good will toward the family generally, this little act of hers; he knew that, but it was a personal matter, after all, and he should thank her.  It was well to be thoughtful, to attend to the small amenities, and it took him more than the usual time to dress.  His apparently careless summer garb required the adjustment of an expert here and there.  He was an hour in the doing of it.  When he emerged he was not, taken in a comprehensive way, bad-looking.  He was clear-faced, strong-featured and of stalwart build.

The ordinary man he would not have feared in any meeting; of the woman he was about to meet he had some apprehension.  He knew her quality, but—­she had worked for him a tie!  He went up the broad path to the doorway, between flowers and trees and shrubbery.  It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and he would find her alone, he thought, for chances of calls are not so great in the smaller towns as in the cities; there is an average to be maintained, and Mrs. Jones or Mrs. Smith does not receive on days particularized.  He was compelled to wait in the parlor but a moment.  She came in, and he saw her for the first time in two years.

What a gift women have in producing physical effects upon the creature male, no matter what the woman’s status.  Mrs. Rolfston came in with a look of half inquiry on her face and with a presentation of herself which was perfect in its way.  She wore some soft and fluffy dress—­a man cannot describe a garb in detail—­with that lace-surrounded triangular bareness upon the bosom just below the chin