She came very near that night to resolving that she would return to her home next morning. Heaven forbid. He had heard this talk before. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. “If you must go on with it,” said Hetty, “now’s your time. I'm entirely at your service. Day by day she followed the spiritual and physical contest between this man and woman. And that’s why I’m at your service.
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