He essayed to speak, but she held up her hand.
"I do not want to know your evidence. I know you would not have spoken unless there was need. Only tell me what I must do."
If Durgan a minute before had felt rueful with regard to his interference, he was now even more unprepared to meet its successful issue.
While he hesitated, she began a quick, practical statement of her case.
"I do not want to estrange any friend, however humble. I stand in need of human friends, as well as of my animals."
"For protection?"
The question came naturally from him; but the moment it was uttered he perceived that she shrank slightly, as if he had broken his compact of silence.
"No; not for protection, but to keep me human. My sister has less need for friends; her religion is everything to her, and she loves her housekeeping. But with me it is different; I must get my mind freshened by every human I come across, and these men have work at our place for a month to come. I could make short work of familiarity when it came from men who know better, but these cannot conceive that anyone is above them, and so could not see the justice of reproof. I do not wish to hurt them, and I dare not make them my enemies. Tell me what to do."
"If you knew me better, you would not expect me to guide you. I have made too many mistakes of my own. My misfortunes are all my own fault."