CHAPTER XXIII
Philip Rowe's interview with Helen may be divided into two parts. The first is unimportant to this narrative. Keenly planned, adroitly manœuvered, he brought the talk up to the point of values and put his request for an option.
The man had aroused the girl's distrust from the beginning; he came unannounced, he was so low spoken, so sure; his eyes were so steady. She listened to what he had to say carefully, talking little, telling herself that he was trying to draw her out, while he appeared to be telling of himself and his wants.
"The forest isn't for sale," she said simply, when he stopped.
"So we have understood. But circumstances, I thought, might have changed your mind. We have all respect for your ability, but we realize that the load is becoming too much for one of limited resources to carry."
His oily assurance nettled her.
"I think I am the best judge of that."
He shrugged. "For instance, there is the matter of taxes."
"That is serious, of course, but state legislation is pending to remove that obstacle."
"One can never be certain, Miss Foraker, of the promises of politicians." She started to interrupt and said: "Our senator, Humphrey Bryant—" But he went on, looking hard into her eyes, "or the tenure of office of—states-
