Белые люди
Chapter IX
“Howdidhelook?”Mr.MacNairnasked.
“Pale!Thatwon’tdo—thoughhecertainlydidn’tlookill.”Ilaughedagain.“I’mlaughingbecausehelookedalmostlikeoneoftheWhitePeople.”
“AreyousureitwasFeargus?”hesaid.
“Quitesure.NooneelseistheleastlikeFeargus.Didn’tyouseehimyourself?”
“Idon’tknowhimaswellasyoudo;andtherewasthemist,”washisanswer.“ButhecertainlywasnotoneoftheWhitePeoplewhenIsawhimlastnight.”
Iwonderedwhyhelookedashedidwhenhetookmyhandanddrewmedowntomyplaceontheplaidagain.Hedidnotletitgowhenhesatdownbymyside.Hehelditinhisownlarge,handsomeone,lookingdownonitamomentorso;andthenhebenthisheadandkisseditlongandslowlytwoorthreetimes.
“DearlittleYsobel!”hesaid.“Beloved,strangelittleYsobel.”
“AmIstrange!”Isaid,softly.
“Yes,thankGod!”heanswered.
IhadknownthatsomedaywhenwewereatMuircarrietogetherhewouldtellmewhathismotherhadtoldme—aboutwhatwethreemighthavebeentooneanother.Itrembledwithhappinessatthethoughtofhearinghimsayithimself.Iknewhewasgoingtosayitnow.
Heheldmyhandandstrokedit.“Mymothertoldyou,Ysobel—whatIamwaitingfor?”hesaid.
“Yes.”
“DoyouknowIloveyou?”hesaid,verylow.
“Yes.Iloveyou,too.Mywholelifewouldhavebeenheavenifwecouldalwayshavebeentogether,”wasmyanswer
