SON OF THE WIND
you know, to me, she has always been the most real one in the world."
Carron surveyed the elder man in some astonishment. "You do beat the Dutch! Well," suddenly breaking off, "make it a hypothetical case. Suppose we call her a real woman, the living Ideal, is that an argument for leaving her alone or for wanting her—eh?"
The scholar smiled. "Oh, no doubt, no doubt," he said, as if to his eye the alternative were clear. "Did you tell Blanche that?"
Carron looked shocked. "You can't talk like that to a woman!"
"Why not? The desire to capture is natural—it's in the blood. Why didn't you show her your side of the business? It would have been only fair to her, considering all she has told you. Besides, you might have persuaded her."
Carron was silent. Rader's idea of what had taken place between the girl and himself in their morning's interview was naïve certainly—straight question and reply, having the whole thing plainly out, as flat as you please. It was the idea he himself had started with, that morning; but, somehow, circumstances had altered the original conception. He could not tell whether he, himself, was wholly
responsible, or whether the girl had had a hand in
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