“No, Wolf,” she said gently. “Not that. But—but you’re dead right. There’ll be no more fool’ry and Sinclair. I’m thro’. It was a crazy game, and I’d ought to’ve known better. He’s dirt when a woman’s around, an’ I’m not looking for dirt.”
She sighed profoundly.
“Say, you can go right on an’ trade that dope yourself. I’m all for that buy in Calford. An’—an’ I won’t get it if you trust father. Say, boy, it’s a deal? Our trade’s bigger to me than even gettin’ you mad. You go to it, an’ put that trade thro’. An’ I’ll swear to cut Sinclair right out from between us—here an’ now.”
The Wolf had no learning. He only had his own understanding of loyalty and love, and the invincible courage of utter fearlessness.
Annette had achieved with her smile what no raging could have done for her. And she knew that that was so as she watched the Wolf pick up and relight his cigarette.
CHAPTER IV
SCHEMING
ANNETTE was standing at the window of the living-room. She was alone and glad to be so. Never in her life had she been more thankful for solitude and the shadows about her.
The room was in darkness, except for the ruddy glow under the damper of the wood stove. Beyond the window it was inky black, for night had fallen, and a silent, windless snowstorm was burying the prairie outside under a new white shroud.
The girl’s day had been long and difficult. She had found it prolonged purgatory.
After those swift-moving events about noon the period of waiting and dissembling had taxed Annette’s impatient nature to the uttermost. But she had forced herself to endure. She had smiled on her father, and even more upon the Wolf. She had ministered to them and watched them eat the frugal meals it was her work to prepare. And she had betrayed nothing. With all her strength she had struggled that no suspicion should find place in the minds of her menfolk. Now, now at last, she was free, and there was no longer need of disguise.