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Updated: May 28, 2025
He stammered again: "I didn't dream I was hurting you " Then light broke upon him. He said: "It's because you don't want to be treated like a silly girl; eh, Jack?" But to complete his astonishment she moaned: "N-n-no! It's b-b-because you you n-n-never do t-treat me like a g-g-girl, P-P-Pierre!" He groaned heartily: "Well, I'll be damned!"
With one hand she held a burning twig by way of a torch, and with the other she patted her hair into shape and finally thrust the comb into the glittering, heavy coils. She started, as if she felt his presence without looking, and knelt with body erect. "P-P-Pierre!" "Yes?" "C-c-c-close your eyes." He obeyed. "Look!"
"And these th-things aren't any thicker than spider webs." "Wait. I'll build you a great big fire." And he scooped up a number of dead twigs. There was an interlude of more silk rustling, then: "P-P-Pierre." "Well?" "I wish I had a m-m-m-mirror." "Jack, are you vain?" A cry of delight answered him. He threw caution to the winds and advanced on her.
He found her kneeling above a pool of water fed by the soft sliding little stream from the spring. With one hand she held a burning branch by way of a torch, and with the other she patted her hair into shape and finally thrust the comb into the glittering, heavy coils. She started, as if she felt his presence. "P-P-Pierre!" "Yes?" "Look!"
The only sound was the rustling of Jacqueline's stolen silks and the purling of a small stream of water near them, some meager spring. But presently: "P-P-Pierre, I'm f-freezing." He himself was numbed by the chill air and paused in the task of thrusting a leg into the trousers, which persisted in tangling and twisting under his foot. "So'm I. It's c-c-cold as the d-d-d-devil."
He stammered again: "I didn't dream I was hurting you " Then light broke upon him. He said: "It's because you don't want to be treated like a silly girl; eh, Jack?" But to complete his astonishment she moaned: "N-n-no! It's b-b-because you you n-n-never do t-treat me like a g-g-girl, P-P-Pierre!" He groaned heartily: "Well, I'll be damned!"
"Is there something missing?" "Yes. Around the shoulders." "Take the scarf." There was an interlude of more rustling, then: "P-P-Pierre." "Well?" "I wish I had a m-m-m-mirror." "Jack, are you vain?" A cry of delight answered him. He threw caution to the winds and advanced on her. He found her kneeling above a pool of water fed by the soft sliding little stream from the spring.
"And these th-things aren't any thicker than spider webs." "Wait. I'll build you a great big fire." And he scooped up a number of dead twigs. "P-P-Pierre! D-d-d-don't you d-d-dare c-come in s-sight of m-me." "D-d-damn it! I don't want to see you." "P-Pierre! Aren't you ash-sh-sh-shamed to talk like that?" "Jack, this damned collar won't button." "K-k-eep t-t-t-trying." "Come help me." "Pierre!
The only sound was the rustling of Jacqueline's stolen silks and the purling of a small stream of water near them, some meager spring. But presently: "P-P-Pierre, I'm f-freezing." He himself was numbed by the chill air and paused in the task of thrusting a leg into the trousers, which persisted in tangling and twisting under his foot. "So'm I. It's c-c-cold as the d-d-d-devil."
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