"I will be careful," she said.
The scissors snipped busily, and the rich yellow-brown hair fell all around the deck. Mary eyed it covetously. One shining twist of it dropped in her lap. He could not see her. In a twinkling it was stuffed inside her belt.
Meanwhile Jack continued to smile with softened eyes. "Hair-cutting was never like this," he murmured. He was tantalized by the recollection of her voice, and he cast about in his mind for something to lead her to talk more freely. "You were not here when I came through two years ago," he said.
"I was away at school," she said.
"Where?"
"The mission at Caribou Lake."
"Did you like it there?"
He felt the shrug in her finger-tips. "It is the best there is," she said quietly.
"It's a shame!" said Jack. There was a good deal unspoken here. "A shame you should be obliged to associate with those savages," he implied, and she understood.
"Have you ever been outside?" he asked.