Forgiveness
did not solve her problem.
"I am going to take you to Montreal--and then out to Winnipeg, when I've
got the cheese-factory going," he said with a wise look in his face, and
with tenderness even coming into his eyes. "I know what mistakes I've
made"--had not George Masson the despoiler told him of them?--"and I know
what a scoundrel that fellow is, and what tricks of the tongue he has.
Also he is as sleek to look at as a bull, and so he got a hold on you.
I grasp things now. Soon we will start away together again as we did at
Gaspe."
He came close to her. "Carmen!" he said, and made as though he would
embrace her.
"Wait--wait a little. Give me time to think," she said with dry lips,
her heart beating hard. Then she added with a flattery which she knew
would tell, "I cannot think quick as you do. I am slow. I must have
time. I want to work it all out. Wait till to-night," she urged.
"Then we can--"
"Good, we will make it all up to-night," he said, and he patted her
shoulder as one would that of a child. It had the slight flavour of the
superior and the paternal.
She almost shrank from his touch. If he had kissed her she would have
felt that she must push him away; and yet she also knew how good a man he
was.
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