For full two miles they went
without a pull, only stopped at last by the finish of the level. From
there, one could see far--away over to Wittenham Clumps across the
Valley, and to the high woods above the river in the east--away, in the
south and west, under that strange, torn sky, to a whole autumn land, of
whitish grass, bare fields, woods of grey and gold and brown, fast being
pillaged. But all that sweep of wind, and sky, freshness of rain, and
distant colour could not drive out of Gyp's heart the hopeless aching
and the devil begotten of it.
VIII
There are men who, however well-off--either in money or love--must
gamble. Their affections may be deeply rooted, but they cannot repulse
fate when it tantalizes them with a risk.
Summerhay, who loved Gyp, was not tired of her either physically or
mentally, and even felt sure he would never tire, had yet dallied for
months with this risk which yesterday had come to a head. And now,
taking his seat in the train to return to her, he felt unquiet; and
since he resented disquietude, he tried defiantly to think of other
things, but he was very unsuccessful. Looking back, it was difficult for
him to tell when the snapping of his defences had begun. A preference
shown by one accustomed to exact preference is so insidious. The
girl, his cousin, was herself a gambler. He did not respect her as he
respected Gyp; she did not touch him as Gyp touched him, was not--no,
not half--so deeply attractive; but she had--confound her! the power
of turning his head at moments, a queer burning, skin-deep fascination,
and, above all, that most dangerous quality in a woman--the lure of an
imperious vitality.
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