Marie by H. Rider (Henry Rider) Haggard
page 95 of 371 (25%)
page 95 of 371 (25%)
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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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