And then they will look for you again in Churchill."
Philip was conscious, almost without seeing, that Jeanne had bowed
her head in her arms and that she was giving way now to the
terrific strain which she had been under. Not until he heard a low
sob, which she strove hard to choke back in her throat, did he
dare to lean over again and touch her. Whatever was throbbing in
his heart, he knew that he must hide it now.
"You read the letter?" he asked, softly.
"Yes, M'sieur."
"Then you know--that you are safe with me!"
There was pride and strength, the ring of triumph in his voice. It
was the voice of a man thrilled by his own strength, by the warmth
of a great love, by the knowledge that he was the protector of a
creature dearer to him than all else on earth. The truth of it set
Jeanne quivering. She reached out until in the darkness her two
hands found one of Philip's, and for a moment she held his paddle
motionless in midair.
"Thank you, M'sieur," she whispered. "I trust you, as I would
trust Pierre."
All the words that women had ever spoken to him were as nothing to
those few that fell softly from Jeanne's lips; in the clinging
pressure of her fingers as she uttered them were the concentrated
joys of all that he had dreamed of in the touch of women.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144