“I would steal nothing from you but your favour.”
“It is all bestowed on these animals. Take him you have rescued and make yourself my debtor and go.”
“Mademoiselle, is this to be, when I have spent days—nay, I know not how many—of hunger and thirst and weariness in the desperate pursuit of one to whom I had vowed to offer those services of protection she lacked elsewhere?”
Her pale eyes wondered at me.
“Do you speak of the swineherd, monsieur?” she said.
“I speak of Mademoiselle de Lâge.”
“She is very secure and in good company. And whence comes your knowledge of, or interest in, her?”
“Shall I tell you the story?”
“Nay,” she said, with a sudden swerve to indifference; “but how does it concern me?”
“Your uncle, mademoiselle!”