On the following day Dave's duties called him to Brownsville,
where court was in session. He had planned to leave by the morning
train; but as he continued to meditate over Strange's words he
decided that, before going, he ought to advise Alaire of the
fellow's suspicions in order that she might discharge Jose Sanchez
and in other ways protect herself against his possible spite.
Since the matter was one that could not well be talked over by
telephone, Dave determined to go in person to Las Palmas that
evening. Truth to say, he was hungry to see Alaire. By this time
he had almost ceased to combat the feeling she aroused in him, and
it was in obedience to an impulse far stronger than friendly
anxiety that he hired a machine and, shortly after dark, took the
river road.
The Fates are malicious jades. They delight in playing ill-natured
pranks upon us. Not content with spinning and measuring and
cutting the threads of our lives to suit themselves, they must
also tangle the skein, causing us to cut capers to satisfy their
whims.
At no time since meeting Alaire had Dave Law been more certain of
his moral strength than on this evening; at no time had his grip
upon himself seemed firmer.
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