It so startled him that he sat
up straight. Cissie also sat up. She stopped crying, and sat looking
into the fire.
"You mean--morals?" said Peter in a low tone.
Cissie barely nodded, her wet eyes fixed on the fire.
"I see. I was stupid."
The girl sat a moment, drawing deep breaths. At last she rose slowly.
"Well--I'm glad it's over. I'm glad you know." She stood looking at him
almost composedly except for her breathing and her tear-stained face.
"You see, Peter, if you had been like Tump Pack or Wince or any of the
boys around here, it--it wouldn't have made much difference; but--but
you went off and--and learned to think and feel like a white man. You--
you changed your code, Peter." She gave a little shaken sound, something
between a sob and a laugh. "I--I don't think th-that's very fair, Peter,
to--to go away an'--an' change an' come back an' judge us with yo' n-new
code." Cissie's precise English broke down.
Just then Peter's logic caught at a point.
"If you didn't know anything about my code, how do you know what I feel
now?" he asked.
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