Love stories; Miners -- Fiction; Mines and mineral resources -- Colorado -- Fiction; Strikes and lockouts -- Fiction
Morrison ascribed only one motive to the subsequent meetings which he
knew took place between Élise and Firmstone. Élise was drifting farther
and farther from him, in spite of all that he could do. "Rowing," as he
expressed it, had not been of infrequent occurrence between himself and
Élise before Firmstone had appeared on the scene; but on such occasions
Élise had been as ready for a "mix-up" as she was now anxious to avoid
one. There was another thing to which he could not close his eyes. There
had been defiance, hatred, an eager fierceness, both in attack and
defence, which was now wholly lacking. On several recent occasions he
had sought a quarrel with Élise; but while she had stood her ground,
there was a contempt in her manner, her eyes, her voice, which could not
do otherwise than attract his attention.
To do Morrison the justice which he really deserved, there was in him as
much of love for Élise as his nature was capable of harbouring for any
one outside himself. He looked upon her as his own, and he was defending
this idea of possession with the same pugnacity that he would protect
his dollars from a thief. Morrison had been forced to the conclusion
that Élise was lost to him. Hitherto Firmstone had been an impersonal
obstacle in his path. Now--The eyes narrowed to a slit, the venomous
lips were compressed. Morrison was a beast. Only the vengeance of a
beast could wipe out the disgrace that had been forced upon him.
In reality Élise was only a child. Unpropitious and uncongenial as had
been her surroundings to her finer nature, these had only retarded
development; they had not killed the germ. Her untrammelled life had
been natural, but hardly neutral. To put conditions in a word, her
undirected life had stored up an abundant supply of nourishing food that
would thrust into vigorous life the dormant germ of noble womanhood when
the proper time should come. There had been no hot-house forcing, but
the natural growth of the healthy, hardy plant which would battle
successfully the storms that were bound to come.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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