They had reached Marie’s home, and she was standing on the veranda, leaning her pretty head, with its wealth of bronzed hair, against one of the supports. Her eyes were resting radiantly on Hugh’s face.
“I doubt not,” Hugh was saying, “that they are very happy, and I presume it is only a question of time until we shall lose Ethel.”
“Papa says he fears you will also go away now that the hot winds have destroyed the crops and the big fire has generally devastated the country.”
Hugh shrugged his shoulders. “The greater the pressure, the better the wine.” He laughed a little and continued, “The test has been a crucial one. Perhaps I will be compelled to go. When one is conquered, the surrender should be unconditional.”
“That might be true of a woman,” said Marie, “but a man should resist.”
“And why of a woman more than of a man?” inquired Hugh.
“A man has greater strength,” she replied. “A woman is all heart and sentiment, and, while her fortress is a strong one, yet she expects to be conquered, and once she surrenders, she loves no one more than her conqueror.”
Hugh thought for a moment and then said, “Yes, I presume that is the rule.”
“Not the rule, but the condition,” replied Marie.
“But there are rules that govern lives,” persisted Hugh. “Do you not think so?”