child of her freedom, of her soul--'

Hazel wondered at him. His eyes darkened so upon Reddin, his face was
so powerful, irradiated with love and anger.

'So young!' he went on--'so young, and as wild as a little bird. How
could anyone help letting her take her own way? She wanted to go free
in the woods. I let her; and there you were like a sneaking wolf.'

He threw a look at Hazel so full of wistful tenderness that she flung
the green skirt over her head and sobbed.

'Stow it, can't you?' said Reddin. 'If you want a fight, say so; but
don't preach all night.'

His tone was injured. He felt that he had been particularly considerate
to Edward in sending him the letter. Also, he was convinced that he had
only taken what Edward did not want. That Edward could love Hazel was
beyond his comprehension. If a man loved a woman, he possessed her,
took his pleasure of her. Love that was abnegation was to his idea
impossible. So that, now, when Edward spoke of his love, Reddin simply
thought he was posing.

'Why didn't you let her be?'

'Women don't want to be let be,' said Reddin with a very unpleasant
laugh.

'Oh! stop talking about me as if I wunna here!' cried Hazel.