She turned impulsively and leaned her head against him.
"Major Herne, you—you are awfully good to me, do you know? I shall never forget it. And if—if I were not quite sure in my heart that Bobby is still alive and wanting me, I would come to you, if you really cared to have me. But—but—"
"Do you mean that, Betty?" he said. His arm was round her, but he did not seek to draw her nearer, did not so much as try to see her face.
But she showed it to him instantly, lifting clear eyes, in which the tears still shone, to his.
"Oh, yes, I mean it. But, Major Herne, but——"
He met her look, faintly smiling.
"Yes," he said. "It's a pretty big 'but,' I know, but I'm going to tackle it. I'm going to find out if the boy is alive or dead. If he lives, you shall see him again; if he is dead—and this is the more probable, for it is no country for white men—I shall claim you for myself, Betty. You won't refuse me then?"
"Only find out for certain," she said.
"I will do that," he promised.
"But how? How? You won't go there yourself?"