Ducane went purple. All his bullying, blustering nature flared up.
"By , you'll do as I tell you," he said.
"I will not," said Jennifer, and he saw the steel in her eyes.
For a moment he gasped. Then he swore again, low and in admiration.
"You've got sand, you little spitfire," he said. "You've got sand." He stared at her still. "I reckon you could jolly the lot of 'em if you were put to it, eh? They wouldn't cut any ice off you."
She shivered under the eager speculation in his eyes.
"Harry—dear" she said, and reached her hand up to touch his cheek.
He caught it, crushing his lips to the palm.
"You'd do anything for me, Jenny?" he whispered. "Anything, if I needed it? You know I love you, Jenny. I love you."
Neither the man nor the woman knew yet if he loved himself better. Jennifer drew her hand gently away.
"Anything I could," she said. "You know that. Now, go back to Robison. Louisa has taken in the bacon."
Ducane went, and there was the lift of eagerness in his feet. For he had a whole new formula to work on; one close at hand; one which he had never thought of before. Robison looked at him with curiosity. He did not understand this man who had gone into a game for men to play and who was now afraid of it. For long they talked very low over the table-corner. Then Ducane pushed dishes and silver aside, and brought some papers from a locked drawer in a wall-cabinet.
"When the first boat goes down to Chipewyan we go too," he said. "I want some information and some photographs about that country."
"Oh," Robison rubbed his broad flat nose. "Told yer Grey Wolf was only a nibble at the beginning."
"I could have told you that. Last week I heard from a fellow in England who'd been reading some of our literature. It came under cover to Winnipeg, of course. I'm replying direct to him. He's going to have that bit of land on the Peace that you bought from Ras Taylor."
