Despite the coolness he had maintained in his wife’s presence after he had conquered the first almost uncontrollable impulse to render her incapable of doing him further mischief he was at heart afraid of Nancy. There had always been about her something he had not understood; a suggestion of strength held in reserve—of that super-strength which we call fortitude, and he began to fear that her resourcefulness might match his own. His thoughts were full of her as he strode along in the darkness, and of the relations that must exist between them in the future when the successful issue of his present enterprise should enable him to settle down to the only important business of life—that of making money and piling it up. Once let him get into his stride, and nothing should hinder him from pushing on; as for the Drakes, they might go to the dogs or the devil, or potter along to the end of their journey, patching up poor men’s fences and knocking together an occasional poor man’s coffin. Henceforward they were beneath his contempt— He paused there, knowing it was a lie; that though he had married Nancy for her money and for the opportunities the alliance would bring him; though he had himself been unfaithful to her and was unrepentant, he was bitterly jealous of Jagger. The difficulty he had never yet surmounted was how to hurt his enemy in a vital spot and escape injury himself; but he never lost hope. His attempt to throw suspicion for the theft of the money on Jagger had influenced nobody except Stalker, who was a gullible fool. That, too, would have hit Nancy hard; would have wounded her pride as well as her heart, but prudence suggested that it would be best henceforth to imitate the police and let the matter drop. There would, however, be other openings. Life was long and full of snares, into which the wariest old bird might run. And he would be wealthy before many years had passed, and what was there money could not accomplish? It was the one article in his short creed that he believed with all his soul, yet even as it crossed his mind he knew that it would never buy Nancy’s love; but the thought brought a smile to his face. He could very well do without love; in that market tinsel had all the attractiveness of pure gold, and tinsel was cheap. A smooth tongue and a kiss or two could purchase it. So his thoughts raced along, but always in a circle, for they inevitably brought him back to the point where a vague uneasiness clouded his satisfaction, and the sense of anxiety was somehow connected with his wife. What if she were free again?—but that was impossible. Once or twice he wondered if there was no possibility of patching up a peace; but he knew in his heart that she was too straight to tolerate his methods, and he told himself it was a pity. With a nature like hers, if only it had not been spoiled by this unprofitable conscientiousness, what an admirable helpmate she might have been!