"You must care, dear."
"I do," she said, serious when he became so grave. "Tell me again exactly what happened."
He said: "I don't think the brute saw you; he was hard hit and was going blind, and he side-swiped you and sent you flying into the air among those icy rocks." He drew a long breath, managed to smile in response to her light touch on his hand. "And that's how it was, dear. He crashed headlong into a tree; your last shot did it. But Miller and I thought he'd got you. We carried you in——"
"You did?" she whispered.
"Yes. I never was so thoroughly scared in all my life."
"You poor boy. Are the rifles safe? And did Miller save the head?"
"He did," said Duane grimly, "and your precious rifles are intact."
"Lean down, close," she said; "closer. There's more than the rifles intact, dear."
"Not your poor bruised body!"
"My self-respect," she whispered, the pink colour stealing into her cheeks. "I've won it back. Do you understand? I've gone after my other self and got her back. I'm mistress of myself, Duane; I'm in full control, first in command. Do you know what that means?"