"She saved my life at the risk of her own," replied Jaffery.
"I see. And you saved my life once; so perhaps you have rights over me."
"That would be damnable!" he cried. "Such a thought has never entered my head."
"It is firmly fixed in mine," said Doria.
She sat for a while, with knitted brows deep in thought. Jaffery stood dejectedly by the fire, his hands in his pockets. Presently she rose.
"Besides saving my life and doing for me the things I know, there must be many things you've done for me that I never heard of—like this sacrifice of the Persian expedition. Liosha was right. I ought to go on my knees to you. But I can't very well do that, can I?"
"No," replied Jaffery, scrabbling at whiskers and beard. "That would be stupid. You mustn't worry about me at all. Whatever I did for you, my dear, I'd do a thousand times over again!"
"You must have your reward, such as it is. God knows you have earned it."
"Don't talk about rights or rewards," said he. "As I've said repeatedly this afternoon, I've forfeited even your thanks."
"And I've said I forgive you—if there's anything to forgive," she smiled, just a little wearily. "So that is wiped out. All the rest remains. Let us bury all past unhappiness between us two."