“I hope, with all my heart, that you will never repent of it, Delia.”
“You can make me not repent of it. It rests with you, Gaston; indeed, indeed, all with you.”
“Poor girl!” he said, unconsciously, as he entered his room. He could not have told why he said it. “Why will you always sit up for me, Brillon?” he asked a moment afterwards.
Jacques saw that something had occurred. “I have nothing else to do, sir,” he replied. “Brillon,” Gaston added presently, “we’re in a devil of a scrape now.”
“What shall we do, monsieur?”
“Did we ever turn tail?”
“Yes, from a prairie fire.”
“Not always. I’ve ridden through.”
“Alors, it’s one chance in ten thousand!”
“There’s a woman to be thought of—Jacques.”