"She needs a man to handle her money," Longville was running on. He saw the spark had ignited the rubbish in Gavot’s mind. "And she’s a powerful worker and saver. She cooks like an angel; she studies that art as another might study her Bible. She has a mind above most women, but properly handled and with reason——" "What mean you, Longville, properly handled and with reason? Would any man marry Mam’selle?" "A wise man might—yes," Longville was leading his brother-in-law by the most direct route, but he smiled under cover of the smoke. The Morey money in Gavot’s hands meant Longville control in the near future. So the Captain smiled. "She’d marry quick enough," he rambled on, refilling his pipe. "A man of her own is a big asset for such a woman as the Mam’selle. And then the law stands by the husband; woman’s wit does not count." Gavot was not heeding. His inflamed imagination had outstripped Longville’s words. Once he had mastered the physical aspect of the matter, the rest became a dazzling lure. Never for an instant did he doubt that Jo Morey would accept him. The whole thing lay in his power if—— "She’s old and ugly," he grunted half aloud. "What care you?" reassured Longville, "ugliness does not hamper work, and her age is an advantage." "But, what was that Langley story——?" Pierre was groping back helplessly. Point of Pines had its moral standards for women, but it rarely gossiped; it stood by its own, on general principles, so long as its own demanded little and was content to take what was offered. "That? Why, who cares for that after all this time?" Longville spoke benignly. "If Langley left the Mam’selle with that which no woman, without a ring, has a right to, she was keen enough to rid herself of the burden and cut her own way back to decent living. She has asked no favours, but she’d give much for a man to place her among her kind once more." A deep silence followed, broken only by the guzzling and snoring of the other occupants of Dan’s Place. Suddenly Gavot got to his feet and reached for his hat. His inflamed face gave evidence of his true state. "Back to Mastin’s Point?" Longville asked, stretching himself and yawning. "No, by heaven! but to Mam’selle Jo Morey’s." This almost staggered Longville. He was slower, surer than his wife’s brother. "But your togs," he gasped, "you’re not a figure for courting." "Courting?" Gavot laughed aloud. His drinking added impetus to every impulse and desire. "Does Mam’selle have to have her pill coated? Will she not swallow it without a question?" "But ’tis late, Gavot——" "And does the chaste Mam’selle keep to the early hours of better women?" "But to-morrow—the next day," pleaded Longville, seeking to control the situation he had evolved. He feared he might be defeated by the force he had set in motion.