I looked at her. I should never be alone with her
again. I should never again look at her in this way. I tried to hold
the moment, and not blur it. I looked at the lips that I had never
kissed. I watched the rise and fall of the bosom where my head had
never lain. She was speaking, but I could hardly understand.
"I was three days in the woods before I found the Pottawatamies," she
said. "I was alone all night with the stars and the trees. I thought
of everything. I thought of this, monsieur. I was sure you would
do--what you did."
I stared at her stupidly.
She reached out and touched my hand. "Monsieur, listen. I have lived
beside you. I know you to be a man of fixed purpose and fanatic honor.
When such a man as you lays out a path for himself, he will follow it
even if he has to trample on what is in his way,--even if he has to
trample on his heart, monsieur."
I could not follow her argument. "You should not touch my hand." I
drew it away. "You do not understand, after all. Madame, I gave the
signal knowing it meant your murder." I rose, and stood like stone.
My arms hung like weights by my side, but I would not look away from
her.
She rose, too. I saw a strange, wild brightness flame into her eyes.
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