Followed a half-hour of the most ridiculous cross-examination:
"When did you first—?"
"Do you remember—?"
"How could you say—?"
"Whose girl are you, Mavis? Tell me!"
And all the rest of the eternal litany of lovers.
Sarah, peeped in to see how I was. Silas, I discovered from her beaming countenance, was all right. I had forgotten to ask. It was with assumed enthusiasm that I heard that a portion of the cane had been saved. It really didn't matter—not to me. Nothing mattered. Only Bill, and my sense of Harbor in the Far Country of my dreams—
"Such a nice fire!" I said, happily, my face on Bill's one unscarred shoulder.
"You little wretch!"
He kissed me again.