“Then take me away. I don't want to live here another hour.”
“Fay, I'll take you. But it can't be done at once. We must plan. I need help. There are Lassiter and Jane to get out of Surprise Valley. Give me time, dear—give me time. It'll be a hard job. And we must plan so we can positively get away. Give me time, Fay.”
“Suppose HE comes back?” she queried, with a singular depth of voice.
“We'll have to risk that,” replied Shefford, miserably. “But—he won't come soon.”
“He said he would,” she flashed.
Shefford seemed to freeze inwardly with her words. Love had made her a woman and now the woman in her was speaking. She saw the truth as he could not see it. And the truth was nature. She had been hidden all her life from the world, from knowledge as he had it, yet when love betrayed her womanhood to her she acquired all its subtlety.
“If I wait and he DOES come will you keep me from him?” she asked.
“How can I? I'm staking all on the chance of his not coming soon. ... But, Fay, if he DOES come and I don't give up our secret—how on earth can I keep you from him?” demanded Shefford.
“If you love me you will do it,” she said, as simply as if she were fate.
“But how?” cried Shefford, almost beside himself.