Yet you'd think he had a cloven hoof to hear some people talk. I've no
patience with them."
"The woman's name is Meteetse," Gordon said in an even voice, just as
if he were answering a question. "She is young and good-looking for an
Indian. Her boy is four or five years old. Colmac, they call him, and
he looks just like Macdonald."
"People are always tracing resemblances. There's nothing to that. But
suppose his life _was_ irregular--years ago. This isn't Boston. It
used to be the fringe of civilization. Men did as they pleased in the
early days. We don't ask a man up here what he has been, but what he is.
You ought to know that by this time."
"This wasn't in the early days. It was five years ago, when Macdonald
was examining the Kamatlah coal-field. I'm told he sends a check down
the river once a month for the woman."
"All the more credit to him if he does." Diane rose and looked stormily
down at her friend. "You're about as broad as a clam, Gordon. Can't you
see that even if it's true, all that is done with? It is a part of his
past--and it's finished--trodden under foot. It hasn't a thing to do
with Sheba."
"I don't agree with you. A man can't cut loose entirely from his past.
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