"I don't more than half believe that Miss Lamb is a poetess. If she is, she is an uncommonly good one, and she is not the kind of woman whom it is altogether pleasant to be playing tricks upon. Confound that novel! I wish I had never written it."
It was like Jack to confound the novel, and not his "experiment"; but I merely called his attention to the fact that, if he had not written the novel, he would never have ridden up Cheyenne Cañon with Miss Lamb—and me—and then I left him at the livery stable and went and took another look at the Bengal tiger before luncheon. In those days of dawning insecurity about John, it was always a solace to commune with the Bengal tiger. It would be such a peculiarly fitting gift if the occasion should arise, that the thought of it was superficially soothing to my gravest apprehensions.
