"I am satisfied," he said. "I have nothing much to sacrifice,
except myself."

She leaned forward, with her chin in the cup of her hands, and
looked at him steadily.

"You have people?"

"None who cares for me. My mother was the last. She died before I
came North."

"And you have no sisters--or brothers?"

"None living."

For a moment she was silent. Then she said gently, looking into
his eyes:

"I wish I had known--that I had guessed--before I let you come
this far. I am sorry now--sorry that I didn't send you away. You
are different from other men I have known--and you have had your
suffering. And now--I must hurt you again. It wouldn't be so bad
if you didn't care for me. I don't want to hurt you--because--I
believe in you."

"And is that all--because you believe me?"

She did not answer. Her hands clasped at her breast. She looked
beyond him to the shore they were leaving.