Bo's incredulity changed to wondering, speechless admiration. And Dale's rare smile changed his gravity.
“I'm sorry. It was rash of me. I thought you'd go back.... But all's well that ends well.... Helen, did you wake up to-day?”
She dropped her eyes, not caring to meet the questioning gaze upon her.
“Maybe—a little,” she replied, and she covered her face with her hands. Remembrance of his questions—of his assurance that she did not know the real meaning of life—of her stubborn antagonism—made her somehow ashamed. But it was not for long.
“The chase was great,” she said. “I did not know myself. You were right.”
“In how many ways did you find me right?” he asked.
“I think all—but one,” she replied, with a laugh and a shudder. “I'm near starved NOW—I was so furious at Bo that I could have choked her. I faced that horrible brute.... Oh, I know what it is to fear death!... I was lost twice on the ride—absolutely lost. That's all.”
Bo found her tongue. “The last thing was for you to fall wildly in love, wasn't it?”
“According to Dale, I must add that to my new experiences of to-day—before I can know real life,” replied Helen, demurely.
The hunter turned away. “Let us go,” he said, soberly.