'" Their past was indissolubly
linked to this word.
"On a certain day you vowed that you should force me to love you. What
progress have you made, Monsieur? I am curious."
"No man escapes being an ass sometimes, Madame. That was my particular
morning."
Decidedly, this lack of interest on his part annoyed her. He had held
her in his arms one night, and had not kissed her; he had vowed to
force her to love him, and now he sat still and unruffled under her
contempt. What manner of man was it?
"When are we to be returned to Quebec? I am weary, very weary, of all
this. There are no wits; men have no tongues, but purposes."
"Whenever Father Chaumonot thinks it safe and men can be spared, he
will make preparations. It will be before the winter sets in."
Madame sat down upon an adjacent boulder, and reflected.
"Shall I gather you some chestnuts, Madame? They are not so ripe as
they might be, but I daresay the novelty of eating them here in the
wilderness will appeal to your appetite."
"If you will be so kind," grudgingly.
So he set to work gathering the nuts while she secretly took off her
moccasin in a vain attempt to discover the disquieting bur-needles.
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