“I was thanking the Sun for his goodness to me. I was speaking for the thing that is in my heart, that is life of my life,” she added vaguely.
“Well, I have something to say to you, little girl,” he said, with an effort.
She remained erect before him waiting for the blow—outwardly calm, inwardly crying out in pain. “Do you think you could stand a little parting?” he asked, reaching out and touching her shoulder.
“I have been alone before—for five days,” she answered quietly.
“But it must be longer this time.”
“How long?” she asked, with eyes fixed on his. “If it is more than a week I will go too.”
“It is longer than a month,” he said. “Then I will go.”
“I am going to see my people,” he faltered.
“By the Ste. Anne?”
He nodded. “It is the last chance this year; but I will come back—in the spring.”