“Oh, I been so anxion!” sobbed Françoise.
“We must be married right off,” said Brown. “I'll fix your brother-in-law. Françoise, will yon have me for your husband?”
“Me, M'sieu' Brownee?”
“Yes, you—you cursed sweet patois!”
“M'sieu' Brownee, you may call me de cursed patois. I not know anyt'ings. But when André La France take me away, oh, I t'ink I die! Let me honly be Françoise to do your mend'! I be 'appier to honly look at you dan some womans who 'ave 'usban'!”
“Françoise, kiss me—kiss me!” His voice broke with a sob. “If you loved me you would have me!”
“M'sieu' Brownee, I ado' you!”
Suddenly giving way to passionate weeping, and to all the tenderness which nature teaches even barbarians to repress, she abandoned herself to his arms.