His mind turned reflectively to Elsie Worden, experiencing as yet no thrill but just a growing and satisfying attraction. All things seemed possible tonight. He had never given much thought to women, being impatient with what seemed to him their artifice and slight power of insight. So often the women who were esteemed most praiseworthy, were also the least intelligent, and lacked that spark which to him signified vision. In past years he had had a rooted belief that the standard wife was a burden who not only robbed one of mobility, but also demanded her portion of all moments, however individual, absorbed or tense they might be. In such circumstances there was nothing around which he could build a mental fence and call it his own. It is possible that in such periods as these, when Clark gave himself up to taking soundings, as it were, in the sea of his destiny, he distinguished in his own nature that curious duality of sex which makes it possible for certain rare individuals to self satisfy their emotional appetites, and that it was this which had kept him single and unfettered. If he had a craving he could forthwith produce that which appeased it. He luxuriated in the revelations of his own perception. To him the inarticulate thing became vocal with possibilities. He was conscious of no unsatisfied need. And yet, for all of this, the vision of the girl, Elsie, began to blend with his thoughts. XII.--LOVE AND DOUBT Some three months later Belding was walking slowly down the main street of St. Marys. He felt fagged and the sun was hot. Just as he reached the Dibbotts' white gate he heard a clear voice from behind the clump of azaleas that screened the cottage from the road. "Come in, Mr. Belding." He lifted the latch and saw Mrs. Dibbott in a white dress on the porch. She seemed cool and restful. "Sit down here. My, but you look tired!" "I am," he admitted, mopping his face. "Then sit where you are and have some elderberry wine and cookies. They're right from the oven." He sighed with relief and began to munch contentedly. He had not known how tired he was, and Mrs. Dibbott's cookies were famous. "You look played out," she went on sympathetically. "How's Elsie Worden?" "Well. But I don't see very much of her nowadays." "Why?" "Work." His brain was fermenting with half completed plans and calculations. He might as well lay it to that. "Well, why don't you two get married? You will be old before your time." Belding shook his head. "It takes two to make a bargain." "But it doesn't take long." Mrs. Dibbott put down her crochet work. "Don't you think your friend Mr. Clark depends just a little too much on individuals--I include himself in that?" "Perhaps, but it didn't occur to me. At any rate we have a one man concern." "And if anything happened to him, what then?" Mrs. Dibbott's eyes were bright with inquiry. "And suppose you break down, what about Elsie?"