not do it; for it was perfectly evident that the knowledge that danger had come to him through her, would only add to her unhappiness, whether she cared for him or not; and would also frighten her more for the safety of the youngster whom Dick had firmly resolved to protect at any cost. And so, much as he longed to see her, he was forced to forego what seemed like the only possible opening for bringing about an interview, and try to content himself with keeping a close watch upon his charges, and speculating upon some other opening for bringing about the longed-for meeting.
A dozen times a day he went cautiously and brushed aside the ironwood tassels, hoping against hope that he might find that the canvas curtain had been rolled up again; but always it presented the same dull grey impenetrable wall between him and his hopes, and he would wander back to his typewriter and sit gazing out across the valley and cursing his ill fortune. He could not blame her for shutting him out of her life. He had deserved it. And not only that, but in the face of the humiliation which he had put upon one of her proud nature, she could not have done otherwise. It seemed as if he could not have wanted her to do otherwise. She could not be Evalani and bow to such an affront; but just the same, the consciousness of that blank grey wall beyond the ironwoods, was the cause of untold suffering.
