"Have you really?" he asked, absorbed in the play of her dimples in the moonlight, and realising that there were possibilities in her smile that he had by no means fully appreciated hitherto, connoisseur though he believed himself to be.
"I think I know what happened," she said. "I wrestled for the revolver, and it went off. I believe it shot me! I saw you come running, and stop short in the road, and I couldn't scream because he had gagged me.... Is that what happened?"
"Yes—exactly."
"Well, then," in tones of exultation—"well, then, Captain Mestaer Brooke, I have saved your life!"
"At what cost, Millie? At what cost?"
"Did you think about the cost when you saved mine?"
"Ah, that was such a different thing!"
"Why was it a different thing?"
"You know! Because I loved you."
She closed the eyes into which he would persistently gaze.