"Yes; in the Yellow Bull Valley, among the cowmen—among the real people. You came from that valley yourself."
"Yes, we did," says she; "and we'd far better of stayed there."
"You couldn't of stayed there," says he. "And besides, if you'd stayed there I'd never of met you, or you me."
"Indeed! Was that all my fortune—to meet the servant of my father's enemy?"
"It's all of mine! I'm not your enemy. But suppose now I went to your father and told him—what would he do?"
"He'd maybe kill you," says Bonnie Bell simply; "or else Curly would."
"I wouldn't blame either of them," says he. "I don't want to sneak around. I'm going away again——"
"What made you come back?" she says.
"Because I was sick in my heart. Because I thought I could look over once in a while and see you. But when I came back, here was this cursed fence and I couldn't see you any more. I thought I'd go mad. Maybe I have; I don't know."
"With or without the fence," says Bonnie Bell, "how could our circles cross, yours and mine?"