But she put her fingers over his lips and would not listen to him.
“Yes, dear,” he insisted, capturing her hands, “it shall be here. All this is ours—our forest, our stream, our sunlight, yours and mine, our kingdom. Would you change a kingdom for a villa or a fashionable hotel?”
“No, no,” she whispered.
“We will begin life together here—where love began—alone. You shall cook and I shall kill for you, and build with my own hands another shack, a larger one with two windows and a door—a wonderful shack with chairs, a table——”
“And a porcelain bathtub?”
“No—the bath is down the corridor—to the right.”
She had used it.
“It will do,” she smiled. “May I have a mirror?”
“The pool——”
Her lips twisted.