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Smith, Alice Prescott

"Montlivet"


"I am your wife, yes," she was saying slowly. "That is, the priest
said some words over us that we both denied in our hearts. I cannot
look at marriage in that way, monsieur. No priest, no ritual can make
a marriage if the right thing is not there. The fact that you gave me
your name to shield me does not give me a claim on you in my mind.
Wait. Let me say more. You have great plans, great opportunity. You
will make a great leader, monsieur."
Her words sounded mockery. "Thank you, madame." I knew my tone was
bitter.
She looked at me reproachfully. "Monsieur, you are unkind. I meant
what I said. I heard you in the council yesterday. I asked to go in
that I might hear you. I know something of what you have done this
summer. I know how you fended away massacre the other night. This is
a crucial time, and you are the only man who can handle the situation;
the only man who has influence to lead the united tribes. Your
opportunity is wonderful. You are making history. You may be changing
the map of nations, you--alone here--working with a few Indians.
Believe me, I see it all. It is wonderful, monsieur."
"But what has this to do with you and me?"
"Just this, monsieur.


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