"And if I go ahead, and do what you don't like--and make
you--suffer--would you--would you rather be free?" Her voice was very
low and shaken, but he heard her well enough.

"Free of you? Free of _you_?" He caught her and held her and kissed
her over and over.

"You are mine!" he said. "You have given yourself to me! You cannot
leave me. Neither of us is free--ever again." But she struggled away
from him.

"Both of us are free--to do what we think right, _always_ Ross! I
wouldn't try to stop you if you thought it was your duty to go to the
North Pole!" She held him a little way off. "Let me tell you, dear.
Sit down--let me tell you all about it." But he wouldn't sit down.

"I don't think I want to know the details," he said. "It doesn't much
matter what you're going to do--if you really go away. I can't stop
you--I see that. If you think this thing is your 'duty' you'll do it if
it kills us all--and you too! If you have to go--I shall do
nothing--can do nothing--but wait till you come back to me! Whatever
happens, darling--no matter how you fail--don't ever be afraid to come
back to me."

He folded his arms now--did not attempt to hold her--gave her the
freedom she asked and promised her the love she had almost feared to
lose--and her whole carefully constructed plan seemed like a child's
sand castle for a moment; her heroic decision the wildest folly.

He was not even looking at her; she saw his strong, clean-cut profile