“No. What?”
“‘God heareth.’ Have you ever asked Him for anything?”
“No. Why should I, since He gave me this withered leg? Please don’t preach to me.”
“I won’t, then. But I’m terribly sorry.”
“Of course you are. But—don’t become too sorry. I might want to carry you off to my atoll.”
“If you took me away with you by force, I’d hate you and you’d hate yourself. But you won’t do anything like that.”
“What makes you believe so?”
“I don’t know why, but I do believe it.” 213
“To be trusted by a woman, a good woman! I’ll tell that to the stars. Tell me about yourself—what you did and how you lived before you came this side.”
It was not a long story, and he nodded from time to time understandingly. Genteel poverty, a life of scrimp and pare—the cage. Romance—a flash of it—and she would return to the old life quite satisfied. Peace, a stormy interlude; then peace again indefinitely. It came to him that he wanted the respect of this young woman for always. But the malice that was ever bubbling up to his tongue and finding speech awoke.