"I'll bet if you could get the truth out of Inez, Judith, you'd find her suffering torments because she can't marry."
"Can't marry? Why can't Inez marry?" demanded Judith belligerently.
"Because no decent man would marry her," returned Douglas flatly.
Judith laughed. "You poor old male, you! Will you kindly tell me what man in this valley you consider more decent than Inez?"
"I'm decent," said Douglas, flushing, but not the less firmly.
Judith's eyes softened. "You've kept that promise, Doug?"
"Yes," briefly. "And I wouldn't have a woman like Inez if she was as beautiful as Cleopatra and as rich as Hetty Green!"
"Well," airily, "that eliminates you, of course. But let me warn you, Douglas, that if Inez Rodman really loved a man and wanted to marry him, he'd have about as much chance as a coyote used to have when Sister was young enough to run them. Only, if Inez ever does love a man, she won't marry him. She'll keep herself a mystery to him. 'And forever would he love and she be fair.'"
"What's that you're quoting?" asked Douglas.
Judith, her eyes on the window through which shouldered the great flank of Dead Line Peak, repeated the immortal lines. When she had finished, Douglas sighed.
"It's very beautiful!" he said. "But life isn't a procession round a Grecian Urn. It's hard riding from start to finish. And it's a poor sport that won't accept that fact and ride according to the rules. Marriage is one of the rules. I believe in it."
