"I know what you mean by a background of mystery," he said. "I wish I could take you up with me to the great lakes and forests of our northern country, and show you some of our voyageurs. You might make a lot out of them. I think you are perfectly right in saying that what poetry wants is a fresh subject, and not something that has been hammered at by every poet since King David. I can no more read Tennyson than I can drink stagnant water."
Mrs Deloraine looked a little aghast at this version of her conclusions. Sir Edward, whose eyes had a far–away look, said abruptly from a dark corner—
"Do you know that what you have been saying is what I have been trying to think out for a long time? It is what distinguishes our own people from any other breed of pioneer. We won't admit any hard–and–
