“No; I can hardly believe it.”
“Mark the assurance of that answer,” commented Carew. “A man couldn’t feel it; it’s irrational. Miss Gladwyne speaks with a certainty that our guide will come, though she has nothing to base her calculations on—she doesn’t know the distance or the difficulties of the way.”
“What does that matter?” Bella retorted. “She knows the man.”
Carew made a grimace.
“A woman’s reasoning. As we’ve nothing better to do, I’ll try to show the absurdity of it. A man, so far as he concerns this discussion, consists of a certain quantity of bones, with muscles and tendons capable of setting them in motion—”
“Be careful,” Bella warned him. “It’s safer to avoid these details. Besides, you’re leaving something out; I don’t mean the nerve-cells, but the inner personality, whatever it is, that commands them.”
“I’m trying to show that, as a mechanical structure, he is capable of moving his own weight and so much extra a limited distance in a given time, so long as he can secure the necessary food and sleep. Neither the weight nor the distance can be increased except by an effort which, if continued, will soon reduce them below their former level.”
Bella laughed.
“Yes,” she said, “that’s how you reason—mechanically. We’re different.”
“I’ll take quite another line,” Nasmyth interposed. “Lisle’s traversing a country new to him; he can’t tell what rapids, ranges, or thick timber may cause delay. No amount of determination will enable one, for instance, to knock more than a few minutes off the time needed to carry a canoe round a portage, nor by any effort can one cross a range as quickly as one can walk up a valley. Isn’t that clear, Millicent?”