“You’re talking foolish.” The sharpness of Peter’s voice silenced him. But it was only for a moment, and later he broke out afresh.
“It’s no use, Peter, I can’t and won’t listen to reason on this matter. Eve is before all things in my life. I can’t help loving her, even if she is another’s wife, and I wouldn’t if I could. See here,” he went on, letting himself go as his feelings took fresh hold of him, “if Eve’s unhappy there must be some way of helping her. If he’s ruining her life he must be dealt with. If he’s brutal to her, if he’s hurting her, I mean knocking her about, Peter, I’ll––I’ll––smash him, if I swing for it! She’s all the world to me, and by Heavens I’ll rid her of him!”
Peter suddenly drew out his watch; he seemed wholly indifferent to the other’s storming.
“We’ll go and see her now,” he said. “Will ’ll be down at the saloon playing ‘draw.’ He don’t generally get home till Rocket closes down. Come on.”
And the two passed out into the night.
CHAPTER XIV
THE BREAKING POINT
Eve and Will were at supper. The girl’s brown eyes had lost their old gentle smile. Their soft depths no longer contained that well of girlish hope, that trusting joy of life. It seemed as if the curtain of romance had been torn aside, and the mouldering skeleton of life had been laid bare to her. There was trouble and pain in her look, there was fear, too; nor was it quite plain the nature of her fear. It may have been that fear of the future which comes to natures where love is the mainspring of responsibility. It may have been the fear of the weaker vessel, where harshness and brutality are threatened. It may have been a fear inspired by health already undermined by anxiety and worry. The old happy light was utterly gone from her eyes as she silently partook of the frugal supper her own hands had prepared.