"I will not let you go unless you give me your word of honor that you will not leave the plateau, and that you will come back to me."
"I tell you that the quicker and more surely I go out of your life, the happier and better it will be for you."
"And I tell you," said the woman resolutely, "that you can never go out of my life again, living or dead," she released him with one hand and laid it upon her heart, "you are here."
"Enid," cried the man.
"No," she thrust him gently away with one hand yet detained him with the other—that was emblematic of the situation between them. "Not now, not yet, let me think, but promise me you will do yourself no harm, you will let nothing imperil your life."
"As you will," said the man regretfully. "I had purposed to end it now and forever, but I promise."
"Your word of honor?"
"My word of honor."
"And you won't break it?"
"I never broke it to a human being, much less will I do so to you?"