“Listen.  You are a man of family and traditions,—­my late guardian told me.  You have been chosen to a position of trust, you are one of the lawmakers of your own state.  Do you ever stop to reflect what you are doing, how you are abandoning yourself, your own traditions, your own duties, when you speak as you have been speaking to me?  I had committed no crime.  I am held by no process of law.  You take risks.”

“I know.  I have thrown it all away in the balance.  If these things were known, I would be ruined.”  He spoke dully and evenly, indifferently.

“I lack many things, Madam,” he resumed at length.  “I do not lack honesty even with myself, and I do not lie even to a woman.  That’s the trouble.  I have not lied to you.  Come now, let us understand.  I suppose it’s because I’ve been alone so much.  Civilization does not trouble us much back there.  These are my people—­they love me—­I hold them in my hand so long as I live up to their standards.  Maybe I’ve thrown them away, right now,—­my people.”

“You are not living up to your standards.”

“No, but I can not make you understand me.  I can not make you understand that the great thing of life isn’t the foolish ambition of a man to get into a state legislature, to make laws, to see them enforced.  It isn’t the original purpose of man to get on in politics or business, or social regard.  Man is made to love some woman.  Woman is made to be loved by some man.  That’s life.  It’s all of it.  I know there’s nothing else.”

“I have heard my share of such talk, perhaps, in this or that corner of the world,” she answered, with scorn.  “Excellent, for you to force it upon a woman who is helpless!”

“Talk doesn’t help, but deeds will.  You’re going along with me.  I would swear you belonged to me, if need be.  As, by the Almighty God!  I intend you some day shall.  All the officers of the law are sworn to help a man claim what is his own, this side or that of the slave line.  All the stars in the sky are sworn to help a man who feels what I feel.  Don’t tempt me, don’t try to drive me—­it will never do.  I’ll be harder to handle than the man who lost you to me last evening in a game of cards,—­and who went away last night and left you—­to me.”

As she gazed at him she saw his hands clenched, his mouth twitching.  “You would do that, even—­” she began.  “I have never known men grew thus unscrupulous.  A game—­a game at cards!  And I—­was lost—­I!—­I!  And also won?  What can you mean?  Am I then indeed a slave, a chattel?  Ah, indeed, now am I lost!  My God, and I have no country, no kin, no God, to avenge me!”