Knowing that Bates was fond of fast
driving, and fearing that he might overtake him, Westerfelt drove
rapidly. The fires of jealousy were raging within him. He told
himself that it would be a long time before he would ask her again to
go with him anywhere, and during that drive he almost convinced himself
that he could give her up without much regret. He was sure Bates
wanted to marry her. Such a stolid, matter-of-fact man would never
visit a girl with less serious intentions. Bates, of course, was
ignorant of the girl's early love for Wambush. He wondered if she
would ever confess to the lawyer as she had to him. He thought it
unlikely; for he had found it out and mentioned it to her first, and,
besides, her experience with him had taught her discretion. Westerfelt
would have been more generous in his estimation of her character had he
been less jealous, and less angered by the disappointment of not being
her escort. People driving slow teams looked at him curiously as he
dashed past them. He had but one desire at that moment, and that was
not to face Harriet and Bates together.
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