to give her an account of Robbie Muir's silent, solid inertness, and how he had blocked The Pilot's scheme.
"What a shame!" cried Gwen, indignantly. "What a bad man he must be!"
The Pilot smiled. "No, indeed," he answered; "why, he's the best man in the place, but I wish he would say or do something. If he would only get mad and swear I think I should feel happier."
Gwen looked quite mystified.
"You see, he sits there in solemn silence looking so tremendously wise that most men feel foolish if they speak, while as for doing anything the idea appears preposterous, in the face of his immovableness."
"I can't bear him!" cried Gwen. "I should like to stick pins in him."
"I wish some one would," answered The Pilot. "It would make him seem more human if he could be made to jump."
"Try again," said Gwen, "and get someone to make him jump."
"It would be easier to build the church," said The Pilot, gloomily.
"I could make him jump," said Gwen, viciously, "and I will," she added, after a pause.
