“I promised to make you go home at eleven,” she told him.
“But I must tell you … I have to leave town for a while.” He found his tongue suddenly. Briefly he outlined the situation he faced with regard to his estate. Of course, he said nothing about the penitentes, but he made her understand that he was going forth to fight for both their fortunes.
“I can’t do it, I won’t go, unless I know I am to have you,” he finished. “Everything I have done, everything I am going to do is for you. If I lose you I lose everything. You promise to go with me?”
His eyes were burning with earnestness, and [pg 151] hers were wide with admiration. He did not really understand her, nor she him. Unalterable differences of race and tradition and temperament stood between them. They had little in common save a great primitive hunger. But that, none-the-less, for the moment genuinely transfigured and united them.
She drew a deep breath.
“Yes. You must promise not to try to see me until then. When you are ready, let me know.”
She threw back her head, opening her arms to him. For a moment she hung limp in his embrace; then pushed him away and ran upstairs, leaving him to find his way out alone.
He walked home slowly, trying to straighten out his thoughts. Her presence seemed still to be all about him. One of her hairs was tangled about a button of his coat; her powder and the scent of her were all over his shoulder; the recollection of her kisses smarted sweetly on his mouth. He was weak, confused, ridiculously happy. But he knew that he would carry North with him greater courage and purpose than ever before he had known.