She looked at it and held it so that I could read it.
"No name but yours," she said, almost in a whisper. I saw this was so. Then she broke the silken cord by which it was fastened to her wrist, and with another glance at me put it away into her bosom.
It was a little action: but from such a woman what did it not mean? I was amazed.
Another long pause followed.
Then she laid her hand in mine and looked straight at me.
"Are you really a brave man?" she asked. I seemed to take fire under her touch and look.
"That is not a question a man can answer for himself. Test me."
"If your sister were insulted, would you fight for her?" She little knew the cord she had touched, or guessed how the reference cooled me.
"I have already done so," I returned.
"In days of old men fought for any woman who was wronged. Would you?"