'But you don't say you love me, ma bouchal!' Aurora murmured, and her arms tightened about his neck.
'You are beautiful! You are beautiful!' he said fiercely.
'But you don't say you love me!'
'I love you! I love you! I love you!' There was not now in the young man's mind any self-questioning; there was no probing for logical reasons, no doubting, no examining emotions in a suspicious, pessimistic spirit. Done abandon himself to the delicious intoxication of the moment, and Aurora was transfigured under his caresses her aggressiveness, her bonhomie, her bold independence of spirit, were all gone; she developed a clinging and almost infantile tenderness, and breathed about him a cloud of ecstasy.
When Burton returned in two hours' time, Done said nothing about Aurora's visit, but Mike did not fail to mark his mate's demeanour, which was unusually thoughtful.
'Not feelin' too bright, old man?' asked Mike
'Nonsense, Mike; I'm all right.'
'Thought p'r'aps those rib-benders o' Quigley's were pullin' you up.'
'Not a bit of it. I haven't a thought to spare for Quigley.'
Burton understood better later in the evening, when he saw Jim and Aurora sitting together at Kyley's in the dim corner furthest from the wide fireplace, and the Geordie touched him on the arm and jerked his thumb in their direction.