An', here's another thing.
I know, an' you know, down deep in your heart, that you're goin' to
marry either Win, or me. Maybe you know which. I don't. But if it is
him, you'll get a damned good man. He's square an' clean. He's got
nerve--an' there ain't no bluff about it, neither. Wise men don't fool
with a man with an eye like his. An' he wants you as bad as I do. As
I said, we've got a week or more to get acquainted. It will be a week
that may take us through some mighty tough sleddin', but that ain't
goin' to help you none in choosin', because neither one of us will
break--an' you can bet your last stack of blue ones on that."
The girl's lips were pressed very tight, and for some moments she rode
in silence.
"Do you suppose I would ever marry a man who deliberately gets so drunk
he sings and talks incessantly----"
"You'd be safer marryin' one that got drunk deliberately, than one who
done it inadvertent when he aimed to stay sober. Besides, there's
various degrees of drunkenness, the term bein' relative. But for the
sake of argument admittin' I was drunk, if you object to the singin'
and talkin', what do you recommend a man to do when he's drunk?"
"I utterly despise a man that gets drunk!" The words came with an
angry vehemence, and for many minutes the Texan rode in silence while
the bit chains clinked and the horses' hoofs thudded the ground dully.
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