It had seemed to her that life might be very good indeed with his kindliness and sacrifice about her. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. She had heard the trader utter it many times. The natural gaiety of the place seemed to have affected them both. Somebody to depend upon her; somebody to have need of her, if only for a little while. Lucy tried not to make her cringe noticeable. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup. “Quite alone, sir. Even that he sleeps, I must give to him my thanks, for he has been excessively brave for me.
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