Jessy laughed.
"Their business interests don't coincide; but it doesn't follow that they should disagree about anything else. My brother did all he could to dissuade Mr. Vane from going on with his search for the timber until the winter is over."
This was true, inasmuch as Horsfield had spoken to Vane about the subject, though it is possible that he would not have done so had he expected the latter to yield to his reasoning. Vane was one whom opposition usually rendered more determined.
"I think it is rather fine of him to persist in it," Evelyn declared.
Jessy smiled, though she felt venomous just then.
"Yes," she agreed; "one undoubtedly feels that. Besides, the thing's so characteristic of him; the man's impulsively generous and not easily daunted. He possesses many of the rudimentary virtues, as well as some of the corresponding weaknesses, which is very much what one would look for."
"What do you mean by that?" Evelyn inquired with a trace of asperity. Though she was not prepared to pose as Vane's advocate, she was conscious of a growing antagonism toward her companion.
"It's difficult to explain, and I don't know that the subject's worth discussing," answered Jessy. "However, what I think I meant was this—Mr. Vane's of a type that's not uncommon in the West, and it's a type one finds interesting. He's forcibly elementary, which is the only way I can express it; the restraints the rest of us submit to don't bind him—he breaks through them."
This, Evelyn fancied, was more or less correct. Indeed, the man's fearless disregard of hampering customs had pleased her, but she recognized that some restraints are needful. Her companion followed the same train of thought.
"When one breaks down or gets over fences, it's necessary to discriminate," she went on. "Men of the Berserker type, however, are more addicted to going straight through the lot. In a way, they're consistent—having smashed one barrier why should they respect the next?"