But at her words a quick terror came to drive out the girl's submission to despair. She threw out her hands, clutching at the other woman's dress.
"What?" said she, comprehending. "Then the brute's charity and promising to M'Kune—Oh, Lord, what a horrible place it is——!"
"Don't go!" The girl's voice was a choking cry.
The woman swung round and listened. Were the rest starting already? Her fine eyes darkened. She was wrapped up for the night journey in a faded crimson cloak, her usual wear in tragedy, alike as empress and villainess. Its dull glow warmed a beauty that was, like her soul, not quite real. Perhaps she was repenting the hasty impulse that had brought her in. But she could not pull herself loose from that piteous hold.
The younger one looked up beseechingly in her face. Her spirit failed her; she hardly knew what an impracticable thing she was asking, how uselessly she was clinging, in her horror of friendlessness.
"I'm so frightened ... I'm so frightened..." she whispered, panting because the effort hurt her; her lips were pale, and her forehead was damp with pain.
Suddenly the woman clapped her hands.
"I've got it!" she said. Her face cleared, and she began to laugh like one whose mind was rid of a burden. Twisting a ring off her finger, she caught the little desperate hand still clutching at her skirt, and thrust the ring on.
"There!" she said. "Change with me."
"I can't understand," said the girl faintly. The other woman burst into vehement explanation.