I have always believed, you know, that a certain amount of physical excitement is good oil for our mental machinery.

That, perhaps, was why you caught me hauling at His Coltship's ear." He had spoken stiffly.

There was a hard note in his voice, a suggestion of something that was displeasing in his forced laugh.

He knew that in these moments he was fighting against his inner self--against his desire to tell her how glad he was that something had held back the Tete Jaune train, and how wonderful her hair looked in the afternoon sun.

He was struggling to keep himself behind the barriers he had built up and so long maintained in his writings.