gave me the buggy. Well, I don't suppose they discharged you for it."

"No," said Ezekiel, with undisturbed equanimity. "I kalkilate Joan would
have stopped that. Considerin', too, that I knew her when she was Deacon
Salisbury's darter, and our fam'lies waz thick az peas. She knew me well
enough when I met her in Frisco the other day."

"Have you seen Mrs. Demorest already?" said Demorest, with sudden
vivacity. "Why didn't you say so before?" It was wonderful how quickly
his face had lighted up with an earnestness that was not, however,
without some undefinable uneasiness. The alert Ezekiel noticed it and
observed that it was as totally unlike the irresistible dominance of the
man of five years ago as it was different from the heavy abstraction of
the man of five minutes before.

"I reckon you didn't ax me," he returned coolly. "She told me where you
were, and as I had business down this way she guessed I might drop in."

"Yes, yes--it's all right, Mr. Corwin; glad you did," said Demorest,
kindly but half nervously. "And you saw Mrs. Demorest? Where did you see
her, and how did you think she was looking? As pretty as ever, eh?"

But the coldly literal Ezekiel was not to be beguiled into polite or
ambiguous fiction. He even went to the extent of insulting deliberation
before he replied. "I've seen Joan Salisbury lookin' healthier and
ez far ez I kin judge doin' more credit to her stock and raisin'
gin'rally," he said, thoughtfully combing his beard, "and I've seen her
when she was too poor to get the silks and satins, furbelows, fineries
and vanities she's flauntin' in now, and that was in Squire Blandford's
time, too, I reckon. Ez to her purtiness, that's a matter of taste. You