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Marie by H. Rider (Henry Rider) Haggard
page 95 of 371 (25%)
in with us and close the door behind her.

When all were seated and we men had lit our pipes, though apprehension
of what was to follow quite took away my taste for smoking, Marais spoke
in English, which he knew to a certain extent. This was for the benefit
of my father, who made it a point of honour not to understand Dutch,
although he would answer Marais in that language when _he_ pretended not
to understand English. To me he spoke in Dutch, and occasionally in
French to Marie. It was a most curious and polyglot conversation.

"Young Allan," he said, "and you, daughter Marie, I have heard stories
concerning you that, although I never gave you leave to 'opsit'" (that
is, to sit up alone at night with candles, according to the Boer fashion
between those who are courting), "you have been making love to each
other."

"That is true, mynheer," I said. "I only waited an opportunity to tell
you that we plighted our troth during the attack of the Quabies on this
house."

"Allemachte! Allan, a strange time to choose," answered Marais, pulling
at his beard; "the troth that is plighted in blood is apt to end in
blood."

"A vain superstition to which I cannot consent," interrupted my father.

"Perhaps so," I answered. "I know not; God alone knows. I only know
that we plighted our troth when we thought ourselves about to die, and
that we shall keep that troth till death ends it."

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