She whirled and looked at him with temper. Her hand, perhaps unconsciously, was pressed against the wall near that rifle.
"What if I am?"—sharply.
"Because if you are I shall not unsaddle my horse. I'll have to go on."
When she put her question she had been rigidly expectant but at his answer she relaxed and the fierceness that had been about her yielded to a curiosity.
"Go on in the rain? How's that?"—in a voice that was quite different, as though she had encountered something she did not understand.
He looked at her a lengthy interval before replying.
"Because I respect you very much. Do you understand that?"
She moved back to the fireplace, eyeing him questioningly, and he met that look with an easy smile.
"No, I don't understand that," she said.
"You should. I saw you beat a man the other day because he didn't respect you. No one but that type of man would refuse to respect you. It's wise, perhaps, for you to take down that rifle when strangers come at night ... but it isn't always necessary. Some men might stay here with you alone, but I couldn't."