“But if we are to remain here together,” he said, nettled, “you must make it possible for me to work with you.”
“It seems to me that you are putting the cart before the horse,” said Loseis softly.
Gault ground his teeth together. This child to be taking such a tone to him! “My dear girl!” he said loftily, “I must be the one to decide what is best for us until some better qualified person appears.”
Loseis thought: I must not make him too angry. I must lead him along. She said in a more amicable tone: “We are just talking in a circle.”
Gault contrived to laugh again. “Of course we are!” he cried. “Well, what do you propose? You promised to meet me half way.”
“I will do anything that you suggest,” said Loseis with an alluring mildness, “provided you explain the reasons for it.”
The blood rushed to Gault’s pale face. He had to restrain himself from reaching for her hand. “That is all I could ask!” he cried.
“Yes,” Loseis slyly went on, “I will even go out to Fort Good Hope when you send the fur, if it is necessary.”
A doubt occurred to the trader—this was such a violent face-about: but she looked so adorable when she said it, that he waved the doubt away. “Splendid!” he cried. “I now say to you that there is not the slightest necessity for your going to Fort Good Hope!”
Loseis smiled at him at last, a slow, oblique, curious smile, having infinitely more meaning than the trader suspected. It carried him clean off his feet. His hand shot out.