“And you were a royal lover.”
“I loved you first, Paula, and, though you did respond, it was not in the same way. I never took you off your feet. It seems pretty clear that Evan has.”
“I wish I could be sure,” she mused. “I have a feeling of being bowled over, and yet I hesitate. The two are not compatible. Perhaps I never shall be bowled over by any man. And you don’t seem to help me in the least.”
“You, and you alone, can solve it, Paula,” he said gravely.
“But if you would help, if you would try—oh, such a little, to hold me,” she persisted.
“But I am helpless. My hands are tied. I can’t put an arm to hold you. You can’t share two. You have been in his arms—” He put up his hand to hush her protest. “Please, please, dear, don’t. You have been in his arms. You flutter like a frightened bird at thought of my caressing you. Don’t you see? Your actions decide against me. You have decided, though you may not know it. Your very flesh has decided. You can bear his arms. The thought of mine you cannot bear.”
She shook her head with slow resoluteness.
“And still I do not, cannot, make up my mind,” she persisted.
“But you must. The present situation is intolerable. You must decide quickly, for Evan must go. You realize that. Or you must go. You both cannot continue on here. Take all the time in the world. Send Evan away. Or, suppose you go and visit Aunt Martha for a while. Being away from both of us might aid you to get somewhere. Perhaps it will be better to call off the hunting. I’ll go alone, and you stay and talk it over with Evan. Or come on along and talk it over with him as you ride. Whichever way, I won’t be in till late. I may sleep out all night in one of the herder’s cabins. When I come back, Evan must be gone. Whether or not you are gone with him will also have been decided.”
“And if I should go?” she queried.