"Exactly, m'sieu. I don't think he would throw you into the river
--unless I told him to. And I don't believe I am going to ask him
to do that," she added, the soft glow flashing back into her eyes
for an instant. "Not after the splendid work Nepapinas has done on
your head. St. Pierre must see that. And then, if St. Pierre
wishes to finish you, why--" She shrugged her slim shoulders and
made a little gesture with her hands.
In that same moment there came over her a change as sudden as the
passing of light itself. It was as if a thing she was hiding had
broken beyond her control for an instant and had betrayed her. The
gesture died. The glow went out of her eyes, and in its place came
a light that was almost fear--or pain. She came nearer to Carrigan
again, and somehow, looking up at her, he thought of the little
brush warbler singing at the end of its birch twig to give him
courage. It must have been because of her throat, white and soft,
which he saw pulsing like a beating heart before she spoke to him.
"I have made a terrible mistake, m'sieu David," she said, her
voice barely rising above a whisper. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I
thought it was some one else behind the rock.
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