could not have given yourself to save me else, and I like to keep that thought of you in my heart, big and noble and true—that you did love just me." She faltered, but still held him from her. "Do you think I would not do all I can to keep from spoiling your life over there?"
"Stop, stop. It is enough," he cried. In spite of herself, he took her hands in his and drew her to him in penitent tenderness. "I'm no great lord with wide distances between me and your mountain world here, Cassandra; never think it. I'm tremendously near to the soul of things, and the man of the wilderness is strong in me. One thing you have not touched upon. Tell me, what did Frale say or do to you to so trouble you and send you off?"
She stirred in his arms and waited, then murmured, "He pestered me."
"Explain. Did he come often?"
"Oh, no. He—I—he came one evening up to our cabin, and—I sent him off and started next day."
"But explain, dearest. How did he act? What was it?"
She was silent, but drew her husband's head down and hid her face in his neck. "There! Never mind, love. You needn't tell me if you don't wish."
"He kissed me and held me in his arms like they were iron bands—and I hated it. He said you had gone away never to