"You mean, that you'd ride on in the rain?"
"Surely."
"Well.... You ain't afraid of the gun, are you?"
He laughed outright.
"No, it's not that! It's because I'd ride any distance rather than do something that might bring you unhappiness. Don't you see?" He leaned forward, elbows on knees, looking up into her serious face. "Don't you see that if I stayed here with you, alone, and people heard about it, they might not respect you?"
"It's none of their business!"
"Neither was it any business of that man to insult you in town the other day. But he did."
"But it's rainin' and you're cold. I ain't afraid of you."
It was raining, but he was not cold. The fire was close and, besides, another warmth was seeping through his body as he looked earnestly into the face of that daughter of the mountains. The ready defiance was gone from it and the features, in repose, gave it an expression that was little less than wistful.
"And you are a young girl who deserves the admiration of every man that walks. If I stayed here with you, you would know it's all right, and so would I.... Others might not understand."