loving and living, to give you what you ought to have--Life."

It was as though she had struck him. He started and drew himself away.
"Shut up, Bella," he said with boyish roughness and limped past her
into the house.




CHAPTER V


In these days Hugh must have known that his magic-making, as he led
the little blind girl through the forest of his romancing, was at
the mercy of those two that knew him for what he really was; except
for queer, wild, threatening looks now and again, he gave no sign.
He played his part magnificently, even trusting them to come in with
help when they were given their cue. He had dominated them for so
long that even they and the picture of him that they held in their
minds were not so real as his dreams. It was a queer game, queer and
breathless, played in this narrow space shut in by the white
wilderness. And as the slow days went by, the low log house seemed
to be filled more and more with smothered and conflicting emotions.
A dozen times the whole extravaganza came near collapse; a dozen
times Hugh saved it by a word, or Pete and Bella by a silence. Their
parts were not easy, and although Pete still smiled, his young clear
face grew whiter and more strained. Sylvie treated him always as
though he were a child. She would pat his head and rumple his hair
if he sat near her; once, suddenly, she kissed him lightly on the
cheek, after he had moved the chair for her.