"Yes," she told him; "Gerrit was very frank."

"Did he like the girl?"

"I couldn't make that out. But if there hadn't been, well--something
unusual in her circumstances I think he would never have noticed her.
Gerrit is a curious mixture, a very impressionable heart and a contrary
stubborn will. He was sorry for Nettie, and, at the way a great many
people treated her, threw himself into opposition. Nettie's father made
him very mad, and Gerrit pretty well damned all Salem before he left in
the _Nautilus_. He was excruciatingly funny: you know Gerrit can be,
particularly when he imitates anybody. I think being away at sea a great
deal, and having absolute command of everything, give men a different
view of things from ours. What is terribly important to Salem hardly
touches Gerrit; it's all silly pretense, or worse, to him.

"I wouldn't mind that if it weren't for the sense of humor that leads him
into the wildest extravagances, and the fact that he'll act on his
feelings. You know I'm devoted to him but I give a sigh of relief
whenever he gets away on his ship without doing any one of the hundred
insanities he threatens."

"Gerrit's like me," he said.

"More than William," she agreed. "William is never impetuous, and he's
often impatient with his brother. He's a splendid husband, but Gerrit
would make a wonderful lover. I'm thankful I never fell into his
affections ... too wearing for an indolent woman."

"You've been a great comfort and pleasure, Rhoda," he told her. "I only