You see, they lose touch with all that lies beyond the struggle, and without some one to lead them they cannot get back to it.

Still, if I talk in this fashion you will laugh at me, but every one has his weakness now and then--and no doubt I shall make up for it at Winnipeg to-morrow.

One can not afford to be fanciful when wheat is two cents down." Maud Barrington was not astonished.

Tireless in his activities and, more curious still, almost ascetic in his mode of life, the man had already given her glimpses of his inner self and the vague longings that came upon him.

He never asked her pity, but she found something pathetic in his attitude, for it seemed he knew that the stress and the turmoil alone could be his.