"I suppose not," I said slowly. "But—it's been happy, hasn't it?"
"Happy? It's been hell!"
"As bad as that!"
"What do you torment me for? Why are you mocking at me? Why do you say that—laughing into your hair?"
"I wasn't laughing. And I'm not mocking. If you want me to go, I'll go. But if you want me to stay—I'll stay."
"Not that!" he cried vehemently. "Not that. Don't tempt me, Anne. Do you realize what I am? A criminal twice over. A man hunted down. They know me here as Harry Parker—they think I've been away on a trek up country, but any day they may put two and two together—and then the blow will fall. You're so young, Anne, and so beautiful—with the kind of beauty that sends men mad. All the world's before you—love, life, everything. Mine's behind me—scorched, spoiled, with a taste of bitter ashes."
"If you don't want me"
"You know I want you. You know that I'd give my soul to pick you up in my arms and keep you here, hidden away from the world, for ever and ever. And you're tempting me, Anne. You, with your long witch's hair, and your eyes that are golden and brown and green and never stop laughing even when your mouth is grave. But I'll save you from yourself and from me. You shall go to-night. You shall go to Beira"
"I'm not going to Beira," I interrupted.
"You are. You shall go to Beira if I have to take you there myself and throw you on to the boat. What do you think I'm made of? Do you think I'll wake up night after night, fearing they've got you? One can't go
