"And why should you care whether she forgave you or not?"
Spurlock jumped to his feet, the look of the damned upon his face. "Why? Because I love her! Because I loved her at the start, but was too big a fool to know it!"
His own astonishment was quite equal to McClintock's. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand.
"Did I hear you …" began McClintock.
"Yes!" interrupted Spurlock, savagely. "You heard me say it! It was inevitable. I might have known it. Another labyrinth in hell!"
A smile broke over the trader's face. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly.
"Man, man! You're coming to life. There's something human about you now. Go to her and tell her. Put your arms around her and tell her you love her. Dear God, what a beautiful moment!"
The fire went out of Spurlock's eyes and the shadow of hopeless weariness fell upon him. "I can't make you understand; I can't make you see things as I see them. As matters now stand, I'm only a thief, not a blackguard. What!—add another drop to her cup? Who knows? Any day they may find me. So long as matters remain as they are, and they found me, there would be no shame for Ruth. Can't I make you see?"
"But I'm telling you Ruth loves you. And her kind of love forgives everything and anything but infidelity."
"You did not hear her when she spoke to her father; I did."