deceive him.

"There's no chance of bringing help?"

He merely stared hungrily at her, and the loveliest thing he had ever
seen was the play of golden hair beside her cheek. Her smile went out.
She withdrew her hand, but she repeated: "I'm not afraid. I'll simply
grow numb and then fall asleep. But you go on and save yourself."

Seeing him shake his head, she caught his hands again.

"I'll be unhappy. You'll make me so unhappy if you stay. Please go."

He raised the small hand and pressed it to his lips.

She said: "You are crying!"

"No, no!"

"There! I see the tears shining on my hand. What is your name?"

"Pierre."

"Pierre? I like that name. Pierre, to make me happy, will you go? Your
face is all white and touched with a shadow of blue. It is the cold.
Oh, won't you go?" Then she pleaded, finding him obdurate: "If you
won't go for me, then go for your father."

He raised his head with a sudden laughter, and, raising it, the wind
beat into his face fiercely and the particles of snow whipped