Jake was silent a moment. Then: "That's a pity," he said, "because I'm afraid the matter is practically settled. Of course I'd call you if he needed you," he added.
She drew her hand from beneath his. "You have settled it between you, I see," she said, with a small, pinched smile.
He got up and solidly returned to his chair. "Yes, that's so. I don't say we are going to make a rule of it. But for to-night anyway----"
She interrupted him suddenly, with the vehemence of an abrupt resolution. "No, Jake. It must be one thing or the other. I can't have this discussion over again. So please understand that after to-night we shall return to the usual arrangement, which is far the best for us all."
She spoke with nervous force. She was for the moment painfully afraid of being mastered by this man whose strength was still such an unknown quantity that she braced herself to test it as though she were challenging a giant.
Jake was digging in the bowl of his pipe with a penknife, and was for the moment too engrossed with the matter to look up. At length, however, he stuck the pipe into his mouth and began to search his pockets for matches. He found one loose, and bent to strike it on the heel of his boot. She watched him with a growing uneasiness. Would he never speak?
The rasp of the match set her nerves on edge. She rose and stood before the fire, very slim and straight.
Jake puffed at his pipe with immense deliberation, and in a moment the burning match sped past her into the flames. He lay back in his chair with his legs stretched out, his hands in his pockets, and regarded her.
She turned to him at length, meeting the untamed glitter of his eyes with stern composure. "Jake!"
"My girl!" said Jake.