Bordman,” she said ruefully. “It won’t take back the discourtesy, but—I’m very sorry.”

Bordman came into the office from the next room. He was rather pale. He said wryly:

“Eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves, eh? Actually I was on the way in here when I heard—references to myself it would embarrass Chuka and your cousin to know I heard. So I stopped. Not to listen, but to keep them from knowing I’d heard their private opinions of me. I’ll be obliged if you don’t tell them. They’re entitled to their opinions of me. I’ve mine of them.” He added grimly, “Apparently I think more highly of them than they do of me!”

Aletha said contritely:

“It must have sounded horrible! But they ... we ... all of us think better of you than you do of yourself!”

Bordman shrugged.

“You in particular. ‘Would you[39] marry someone like me? Great Manitou, no!’”

[39]

“For an excellent reason,” said Aletha firmly. “When I get back from here—if I get back from here—I’m going to marry Bob Running Antelope. He’s nice. I like the idea of marrying him. I want to! But I look forward not only to happiness but to contentment. To me that’s important. It isn’t to you, or to the woman you ought to marry. And I ... well ... I simply don’t envy either of you a bit!”

“I see,” said Bordman with irony. He didn’t. “I wish you all the contentment you look for.” Then he snapped: “But what’s this business about expecting more from me? What spectacular idea do you expect me to pull out of somebody’s hat now? Because I’m frantically vain!”

“I haven’t the least idea,” said Aletha calmly. “But I think you’ll come up with something we couldn’t possibly imagine. And I didn’t say it was because you were vain, but because you are discontented with yourself. It’s born in you! And there you are!”

“If you mean neurotic,” snapped Bordman, “you’re all wrong. I’m not neurotic! I’m not. I’m annoyed. I’ll get hopelessly behind schedule because of this mess! But that’s all!”

Aletha stood up and shrugged her shoulders ruefully.

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