real marriage?"

"We do not ask such questions in Alaska," he interposed feebly.

"I know, but--"

"Well, then, it is only a marriage of the country--nothing else."

"And there are no children?"

"No."

"Nor--"

"No, no; nothing--but it is impossible."

"But it is not." She was at his side again, her hand touching lightly,
caressingly, the sunburned back of his. "I know the custom of the land
too well. Men do it every day. They do not care to remain here, shut
out from the world, for all their days; so they give an order on the P.
C. C. Company for a year's provisions, some money in hand, and the girl
is content. By the end of that time, a man--" She shrugged her
shoulders. "And so with the girl here. We will give her an order upon
the company, not for a year, but for life. What was she when you found
her? A raw, meat-eating savage; fish in summer, moose in winter,
feasting in plenty, starving in famine. But for you that is what she
would have remained. For your coming she was happier; for your going,
surely, with a life of comparative splendor assured, she will be happier
than if you had never been."