"How, then?" she asked.
"Marry me," said Christian. "This acting—it's no good. There 's men that is bad all around you. One of them—I broke his face like a window-glass downstairs just now—he said you was—bad, like him. And it was time to see what he was worth. Unless you can you are ach—so—so little, so weak. Marry me, my kleintje and you shall be nobody's fool."
The girl on the bed stared at him dumbly: this was what she had never expected. Salvation had come to her with both hands full of gifts. She began to laugh foolishly.
"Marry me," repeated Christian. "Will you?"
She jumped up from her seat, still laughing and took two steps to him.
"Will I?" she cried. "Will a duck swim? Yes, I will; yes, yes, yes!"
Christian looked at her dazed; events were sweeping him off his feet. He took one of her hands and dropped it again and turned from her abruptly. With his arm before his face he leaned against the door and burst into weeping. The girl patted him on the back soothingly.
"Take it easy," she said kindly. "You'll be all right, never fear."
"That 's all the Port Elizabeth ones," said Paul. "How many do you make them?"
Christian du Preez looked up uncertainly. "Allemachtag," he said. "I forgot to count. I was thinking."