"You think that I am vaunting idly," she said. "Perhaps I am. I do
not know what I shall do. But, monsieur, for your own sake do not
underestimate my capacity for doing you harm. I mean that as a gauge."
She stood against the sunset, and her delicate height and proud head
showed like a statue's. I stooped and lifted an imaginary glove from
the sand.
"I take your gauge," I said. "But I find it a small and delicate
gauntlet for so warlike a purpose. May I wear it next my heart,
madame?"
She looked at me proudly. "I am serious," she said.
"And I take you seriously," I rejoined. I stepped to her and let my
hand touch hers. "You wrong me. I find that I take you very seriously
indeed. Believe me. But I have always lived in the present. Come, we
have been grave long enough. Let us be children and take the passing
moment. Madame, Montreal is very far away."
CHAPTER XVII
AFTER THE STORM
We slept at that place that night, and the stars came out clear, and
the water on the sand sang like a harp played by the wind. I slept,
but I dreamed. I thought that Lord Starling came to me, and that the
woman went away. And then the dream shifted, and I stood in a strange,
barren mist-world, and I was alone.
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