"But that's no state of mind for a man," she protested. "That's lie down and quit. You're not that sort, surely?"
"I didn't think I was," he said slowly. "I thought I had sand and staying power. But I'm tired. Lord, you don't know how tired I am—and sore! Every thought I've had for years has been for the old place. And now to lose it! It sort of upsets me—temporarily. I'm deliberately not thinking, nor planning. When the place is sold it will be different. Till then I'm going to loaf, body and mind, for all I'm worth."
Though she thoroughly disapproved of this state of mind, Faith said no more. Time drew on. And one night Angus announced that loafing was done.
"Now I'll get into the collar for another stretch of years," he said. "To-morrow we'll start back. I want to be at the sale, to see who will bid the place in."
"It will be like turning the knife, won't it?"
"Yes, but I can take my medicine. Then I'll sell off the stock, turn everything I can into cash, fix up you and Jean somewhere and go cruising."
"Cruising?"
"Prospecting for new ground somewhere. The farther away the better. I want a lot of land—cheap. I'm out to make a stake—to found a fortune for the Mackay family."
"You'll take me with you."
"No."