It gave him quite a thrill; something seemed to leap up inside of him, and he went out hastily. Then all at once he became angry. It was like opening up again a fight that had been fought and lost.
"What an ass I am," he said furiously. "The deuce of a chance I have to go Bones—with Reynolds and Le Baron. Can the leopard change his spots? About as much chance as a ki-yi has to go through a sausage machine and come out with a bark."
But, as he went towards Jean Story's home, thinking of her and what she would want, the force of what Brockhurst had said began to weaken.
"Brocky is impractical," he said artfully. "We must deal with things as they are, make the best of them. He exaggerates the effect on the imagination. At any rate, no one can accuse me of not taking a stand."
He saw the old colonial home, white and distinguished under the elms, and he said to himself, hoping against hope:
"If I were tapped—it would mean a good deal to her. I'll be darned if I'll let Brocky work me up. I'm not going up against anything more! I've done enough here."
He said it defiantly, for the courage of a man has two factors, his courage and the courage of the woman he loves.