She looked at me as if to plead her own cause. "Strange events have made me. I cannot marvel if you are bitter, for I have brought you unhappiness. Yet it was in this room that I asked you to remember that I went with you against my will."
"I remember."
"And will you remember what—what I have seen? Is it strange that I understand; that I know we must part?"
I shook my head. "It is your cousin's mind impressed on yours that tells you that we must part,—that and your unfathomable spirit,—the spirit that carried you in man's dress through those weeks as a captive. It is that same spirit that will bring you back to me some day."
"Monsieur!"
"That will bring you back."
"Monsieur, no. I cannot change myself."
"Would I have you change? Mary, Mary! I took you as a boy with me to the wilderness because you had an unbreakable will and a fanatic's courage. Yet this is not the end. It is not the end."
She did not answer, and again she laid her head on the table. We had but a few minutes left now. I saw her look up at me twice before I heard her whisper, "Monsieur, you said that I loved you. But you never said that you"——
"Would it change your decision if I said it now?"