Page:Restless Earth.djvu/46

raising himself upon one elbow. “It is all I—we—can do for her. That, and pray that she find happiness somewhere.”

They were silent for some seconds, looking steadily into each other’s eyes and the future.

“But, what will people say?” she asked at last.

Harley smiled.

“Pat, I expected something more original from you,” he said in mild reproach.

“Don’t you care what they say?”

“No. Not a scrap.”

“But this is such a small town, Jimmy. Everybody knows you.”

“This is a small town, and nobody knows me,” he corrected. “I haven’t known myself until this last month. Heavens, woman! I am not ashamed! I’m proud! That for our local society!” He snapped his fingers. “How can its censure affect me? Am I dependent upon local society for my bread? And while I have you and bread, what else is there left for me to desire?”

“‘A book of verse, a jug of wine———’” Patricia suggested laughingly.

“Not at all. You are the book of verse and the jug of wine—and I’ll wager that old Omar said the same thing to his woman. Bah! Local society!”

He checked a forcible expression with difficulty.

“Say it,” urged Patricia, amused.

“I’ve said it—under my breath. Thank God, I’m independent of local society. Australia, England, America—I am paid for my work by every country but my own; and I care as much for local society as local society cares for my work. Let it say what it pleases as far as I am concerned. But you, Pat? Local society will be all for Grace. It will tear you to pieces.”

He sat up and took her hands, looking into her face anxiously.