"What do you think of the scheme to form a new Province here--two new Provinces," he shot at me, "instead of our present Districts? More autonomy and more taxes as I see it." "Yes, I suppose," I groped. The fact is I knew nothing about it. "Would seem more natural to follow the old district boundaries, though," Spoof commented. "They say they are going to run the Provinces from south to north--as far as the sixtieth parallel. There'll be an election next year. You ought to think about that, Frank. It would be some honor to sit in the first parliament of Saskatchewan." The idea struck me as grotesque. I said so. "Why not?" Jean demanded, and there was fire in her voice. "Perhaps not the first parliament, but some parliament," she qualified. "Some parliament," I said to myself. "Perhaps. If I had Jean to goad me on I might do--anything." Spoof scraped a corner clear on the window pane, and said some lines about "Snow cold--in snow." It was something about a soldier dying in the trenches; not wounded, or fighting, but just dying in the snow. I saw Jean's wrapt attention; the glisten of her eyes; the gulp of her white throat. What power was this the man had over her? Was this all a thing of mind, or was it body, too? I had told myself that, animal for animal, Jean would prefer me. As I looked at Spoof's strong figure, well knit, well clad, I wondered. In some way we put in the hour. I did not press the subject, the question, the suspicion which was turmoiling my mind. It was Jean's move. I waited for her. CHAPTER XXII. Spoof set his little table with a linen cloth and napkins and amazingly good dishes. The meal was to consist of stewed rabbit, with potatoes and carrots; bread and cheese and tea. Jean sprang up to cut the bread and make the tea. There was something poignantly domestic in their two figures, shoulder to shoulder--although his shoulder came high over hers--studying the inside of the teapot as though they were crystal gazing (and perhaps they were) while they disputed as to the exact amount of tea for three. It was a new problem for Spoof, but a common one for Jean, and she had her way. It was not until we had finished lunch, and Spoof had rolled me a cigarette, and the dishes were cleared away and some sort of tapestry cover substituted on the table, that Jean saw fit to refer to her behavior. "I promised you that if you didn't quizz I would tell you all about it, Frank," she said, suddenly. "You have been a good boy, and I will keep my word." "By Jove, I haven't fed the bullocks," Spoof exclaimed. "That's what comes of having company. I really should have a man. If the Governor saw me leave my guests to feed a pair of ungracious old bulls he would be permanently humiliated. You won't mind, will you?" We wouldn't, and in a moment Spoof was plowing toward his stables. "You think I'm a wild woman, and pretty much of a fool," said Jean. "Come, this bench is a sad invention. Let's sit on the floor."