night before me 'n' Marthy got married, Ward Billingsley wus thar at
the house tryin' to get 'er to run off with him, an' that Marthy come
as nigh as pease a-doin' of it. Her maw said she'd a-gone as shore as
preachin' ef she'd a-had a dress fitten to take the trip on the train
in. I reckon it wus every word the truth, fer to this day Marthy won't
deny it; but it don't make a bit of difference to me now. Marthy would
a-done as well by Ward as she did by me, I reckon. When women once git
married they come down to hard-pan like a kickin' mule when it gits
broke to traces."

Westerfelt drew the blankets closer about him. The road had taken a
sharp turn round the side of a little hill, and the breeze from the
wide reach of level valley lands was keen and piercing. Bradley's
volubility jarred on him. It brought an obnoxious person back, and
roughly, into the warm memory of Harriet Floyd's presence, and gentle,
selfless tenderness. He ground his teeth in agony. He had just been
debating in his mind the possibility of his being, in consideration of
his own mistakes, able to take the girl, in her new love, into his
heart and hold her there forever, but if she loved Wambush, as, of
course, she once did, might she not later love some other man--or might
she not even think--remember--Wambush?

"Great God!" He uttered the words aloud, and Bradley turned upon him
in surprise.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," said Westerfelt; "my wound twinged just a little, that is
all."