His hot brain knew of a grand enclosure where satisfying coolness and peace and splendid shade reigned, for no man's solace and award.
'You bid me go?'
'Dare you stay?' she said, 'dare I bid you?'
His voice shook. 'What sort—of killing?' he asked, daunted now.
Giles swore softly after the manner of his kind, under danger of tears.
'Where are your senses, lad? Great storms can't last. This is over, his Reverence will tell you that. Not twice in a lifetime, I guess, can the devil brew the like.'
'You bid me go?'
'Not now, not yet,' said Lois tremulously; 'but sin and shame were to keep you to a trial beyond your strength.'
He said quite brokenly: 'You are looking for a broken promise.'
'Not that. Only—only, we know that 'twould be easier for you to face stranger folk, and hard though it be to let you go, far harder were it for you to stay, and we cannot ask it.'