Of little, tidy, hedged-in
France. You were not---- Oh, monsieur, I am sorry you asked me that
question. Of course I answer 'no,' but--but I am sorry that you asked
it."
I went to her. "You are cold. Come with me to the fire. Come. The
men are asleep by this time. Mademoiselle, your spirit is steel and
fire, but your body betrays you. You are shivering and afraid.
Yet---- Well, mademoiselle, pygmies or giants, whichever we may be, we
must not scorn counsel. You once called us partners. On that basis,
will you listen to me now?"
"But you must not"----
"Mademoiselle, on that basis will you listen to me now?"
"Yes."
"Then come." I led her to the warmth, and placed her snugly, with logs
to pillow her and her face away from the sleeping men. Then I sat
beside her. But my speech had left me. I had no reasons, no
persuasions at my tongue.
"Father Nouvel is at the islands," I said. "Mademoiselle, you must
marry me. You must."
"Why 'must,' monsieur?"
"We cannot travel in this way."
"A week ago you thought it possible."
"I had not tried it then. It will not do."
"Monsieur, what has gone wrong?"
I took out my hunting knife and tried its edge.
"My mind," I answered savagely.
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