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The Lure of the North by Harold Bindloss
page 91 of 313 (29%)

"No," said Thirlwell, with a touch of embarrassment; "that was pretty
obvious. I was offered a good post in England, but it meant I'd be
dependent on a man I don't like. A rough life with liberty is better
than luxurious servitude."

"The latter has some advantages," Scott rejoined. "To-night, for
example, you could enjoy a good dinner instead of moldy beans and
rancid pork, put on clean clothes, and go to a concert or theater. Then
you'd get up next morning in a warm room, with a bath and hot water at
hand, instead of freezing by a stove that had burned low. Anyhow,
admitting that you're obstinate and hate to go where others want, I've a
notion that you felt you had to see me out when you refused that post."

"Oh, well," said Thirlwell awkwardly. "In a sense, I was bound--"

"By your scruples? But we'll let it go," Scott rejoined. "I expect we're
all to some extent the slaves of an idea. I'd pull out to-morrow if I
didn't feel I had to make my mining venture good before I quit. All the
same, it looks as if I'd save my money by stopping now."

He looked up, for there was a knock at the door and a man who had gone
down to the settlements came in. His skin cap was pulled down to meet
the collar of his coat, leaving only his eyes and nose exposed, and fine
frost-dried snow stuck to the shaggy furs.

"It's surely fierce to-night," he said. "Thought we couldn't make it
when we met the wind on Loon Lake, but there was no shelter on the beach
and our tea had run out. I brought a letter for Mr. Thirlwell along."

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