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Vane of the Timberlands by Harold Bindloss
page 44 of 389 (11%)
"I've lived in the woods for nine years, but I wouldn't have entertained
that idea for five seconds!"

"Then, there's the other explanation. It's simply that the girl's life
hasn't affected her. Somehow, she has kept fresh and wholesome. I think
that's the correct view."

"There's no doubt of it!" declared Vane.

"You offered to help her in some way?"

"I did; I don't know how you guessed it. I said I'd find her a situation.
She wouldn't hear of it."

"She was wise. Vancouver isn't a very big place yet, and the girl has
more sense than you have. What did you say?"

"I'm afraid I lost my temper because there was nothing I could do."

Carroll grinned.

"There are limitations--even to the power of the dollar. You'll probably
run up against more of them later on."

"I suppose so," yawned Vane. "Well, I'm going to sleep."

He rolled himself up in his blanket and lay down among the soft spruce
twigs, but Carroll sat still in the darkness and smoked out his pipe.
Then he glanced at his comrade, who lay still, breathing evenly.

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