Oddly enough, Isoult loved him the more for the very attack which she

had foiled. Odd as it may be, that is where the truth lies. As for

him, gratitude for what she had endured for his sake might go for

nothing. Men do not feel gratitude--they accept tribute. But if they

pity, and their pity is quickened by knowledge of the pitiful, then

they love. Her pleading lips, her dear startled eyes stung him out of

himself. And then he found out why her eyes were startled and why her

lips were mute. She was lovely. Yes, for she loved. This beseeching

child, then, loved him. He knew himself homeless now until she took

him in.




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