You took her back and condoned; you condoned, Mazarine, and now you'll neither have damages nor wife--and the express goes in thirty minutes!" "The express won't take Mrs.Mazarine away tonight," the old man said, a look of jungle fierceness filling his face.
Burlingame laughed unpleasantly.

"Yes, you'll foul your own nest, Mazarine, and then bring her back to live in it.

I know you.

It isn't the love of God in your heart, because you'll never forgive her; but you'll bring her back to the nest you fouled, just because you want her--'You damned and luxurious mountain goat,' as Shakespeare called your kind." With another laugh, which somewhat resembled that of the two strange vanished Chinamen, Burlingame flicked his horse and cantered away.

A little time afterwards, however, he turned and looked toward Askatoon, and he saw the old man whipping his horse into a gallop to reach Askatoon railway station before the express went East.
"It's true, Mazarine," he said aloud.