“Well, if he comes he shall have the fur. It will be a good way of getting him away from here again.”
“I should hate to see that fur get out of our hands,” said Moale. “That’s real; that’s the goods! Whereas the other thing . . .” He shrugged.
“You’re a fool,” said Gault contemptuously. “The girl is all but ready to drop into my arms. All I need is a little time.”
Moale looked down at his plate again.
In spite of the confidence that Gault had expressed, this conversation brought forward the little worrying anxiety that lingered in the back of his mind. Here were the days passing one after another, and could it be honestly said that he was making progress with Loseis? Sometimes he was sure he was—sometimes not so sure. She was such a baffling creature; at one moment as open and easily moved as a child and the next moment revealing a maturity of mind and an originality that startled him. At other times she was as provoking and secretive as an Indian. To be sure of late she had been generally friendly, even sympathetic; but try as he would, he could not get their relations on the man and woman plane, the plane of courtship. Loseis eluded him like a sprite.
In his heart Gault cursed the time that must be wasted in wooing a civilized miss. They managed such things better in a simpler state of society, when the girl would have been hit over the head, and dragged off without more ado. Women have never really become civilized, he thought; they need to be beaten still. Well, having an eye to the outside world, he could not actually do this, but should he not apply the principle? Perhaps he had been too gentle, too considerate a wooer. That only set her up in her own opinion. It was ridiculous to suppose that a mere slip of a girl who didn’t know her own mind could resist a mature and strong-willed man like himself. The time had come for him to overbear her by the mere force of his personality. She would thank him for it in the end. A Loseis, humbled and loving; Ah! what a seductive picture!
Gault had his horse brought, and mounting, rode across to the Women’s House, well aware that he appeared to the best advantage on a horse. He knocked at the door without dismounting, and when Loseis appeared, she was obliged to look up at him, proudly holding his seat, and making believe to soothe his horse, while secretly fretting him with his off heel. But no light of admiration appeared in Loseis’ clear eyes. She took horsemanship as a matter of course.
“Will you ride up to the lake with me?” asked Gault. “I have grub for two. I think you ought to show yourselves to the Slavis just to remind them that you are the mistress here.”
Loseis cocked an eye at the sky. It was like an inverted bowl of palest turquoise. “Surely!” she cried. “I’m longing for a ride. Give me five minutes to change my skirt.”
Mary-Rose was sent running to fetch Loseis’ horse.