'"The truth is simply this, Mitchell," continued the Doctor, quietly. "We herewith give you up our Lady,—ours no longer; for she has just confessed, openly confessed, that she loves you."
'Mitchell started back. "Loves me!"
'"Yes."
'Black Andy felt the blade of his knife. "He'll never have her alive," he muttered.
'"But," said Mitchell, bluntly confronting the Doctor, "I don't want her."
'"You don't want her?"
'"I don't love her."
'"You don't love her?"
'"Not in the least," he replied, growing angry, perhaps at himself. "What is she to me? Nothing. A very good missionary, no doubt; but I don't fancy woman-preachers. You may remember that I never gave in to her influence; I was never under her thumb. I was the only man in Little Fishing who cared nothing for her!"
'And that is the secret of her liking,' murmured the Doctor. 'O woman! woman! the same the world over!'