"Snubbing? I thought I made you a very pretty compliment," she answered, with a little caressing tone that he found illogically comforting.
"You haven't told me why you like this gentlemanlike boor," he persisted.
"I should think anybody might see that! I like him because he amounts to something; because he has made a fortune, if you insist. It takes a man to do that!"
Upon which, before Wakefield had succeeded in framing a suitable retort, Dorr came up, with a ponderous joke, and claimed a promised waltz.
Well! Dorr need not be in such thundering spirits! He had no chance with her at any rate!
And only a few months later it turned out that he, Harry Wakefield, had as little chance as Dorr.
At this point in his reflections Wakefield's elbows began to feel rough and gritty. He turned himself round and sat with his back to the mountains, looking eastward, his hands clasping one knee. He was glad the prairie was broken up into mounds and hillocks over there, and had not the look of the sea that it took on from some points of view. There was
