"Monsieur, I--I must think a moment. Be patient, if you will."

His voice was calm, but there was something in his look that forced my
pity. "Tell me nothing that I must not tell the commandant," I warned.
"But be assured of my good will."

I think he did not hear. He sat with his forehead on his hand, and I
knew that he was thinking. He looked up with a new decision in his
glance.

"Monsieur, you lead a strange life in this place. I see nothing but
men. Have you no families?"

I swore under my breath. I had expected some meat from his remark, and
he gave me trivialities. I had no time for social preliminaries, and I
felt sudden distaste for him. I pointed him to the window.

"We are not all men. There are Indian women in plenty. Shall I draw
the shade that you may see? There are many of my countrymen to tell
you that they find them fair."

"But are there no white families in the settlement?" He was leaning
forward, and he ignored the insult of my air.

I shook my head. "None, monsieur. None short of Montreal."

He tapped the floor, and frowned. His look went beyond me, and he was
absorbed. "None short of Montreal. Indeed you live a strange life.
Monsieur, is it far to Montreal?"