"But, mon Gyu, Phil, what a strange man!" she said of Torode. "Why should he let you live one time, and try his hardest to kill you another?"
"I do not know. I have puzzled over it to no purpose. Now I have given it up."
"He is perhaps mad," she suggested.
"He did not seem so, except in not making an end of me when he had the chance, and that truly was madness on his part."
The time was never long with us, for we were strangely set apart from time and its passage. We ate and slept, and talked and walked, just whenever the inclination came, and measurements of time we had none. But Aunt Jeanne's pie was finished and we were down to the ham bone, and what little bread and gâche we had left was growing hard, and by that Carette said we had been there at least three days, and we looked for George Hamon's coming at any moment, except when the tunnel was growling and the Boutiques roaring and sobbing.
CHAPTER XXXIV
HOW LOVE FOUGHT DEATH IN THE DARK
I woke from a very sound sleep with a start, and lay with a creeping of the back and half asleep still, wondering what I had heard.