"This wasn't in the early days. It was five years ago, when Macdonald was examining the Kamatlah coal-field. I'm told he sends a check down the river once a month for the woman."
"All the more credit to him if he does." Diane rose and looked stormily down at her friend. "You're about as broad as a clam, Gordon. Can't you see that even if it's true, all that is done with? It is a part of his past—and it's finished—trodden under foot. It hasn't a thing to do with Sheba."
"I don't agree with you. A man can't cut loose entirely from his past. It is a part of him—and Macdonald's past isn't good enough for Sheba O'Neill."
Diane tapped her little foot impatiently on the floor. "Do you know many men whose pasts are good enough for their wives? Are you a plaster-cast saint yourself? You know perfectly well that men trample down their pasts and begin again when they are married. Colby Macdonald is good enough for any woman alive if he loves her enough."
"You don't know him."
"I know him far better than you do. He is the biggest man I know, and now that he is in love with a good woman he'll rise to his chance."
"She ought to be told the truth about Meteetse and her boy," he insisted doggedly.
"I'm not going to disturb her with a lot of old maids' gossip. That's flat."
"But if I prove to you that it isn't gossip."
Mrs. Paget lost her temper completely. "Does the Government pay you to mind other people's business, Gordon?" she snapped.