I thought
that you might believe me a thief, and that would have been too much."
"You cared for my poor opinion?" she asked. The quiver in her voice
caused him to look into her face; he saw the gray eyes shrouded in
tears. He was a queer thief, trembling with joy because of his sin.
"Yes, I care," he answered; "and it seemed all so dark before you
brought the sunlight in with you; now I'm glad that they've accused me;
somebody else might have suffered and had no one to believe in him. But
I must go back to--my prison it seems like now--when I leave you;" this
with a weary attempt at brave mockery.
Allis laid a detaining hand on his arm, the small gloved hand that had
guided Lauzanne to victory. "If anything happens, if you are going
away--I think you are right to go if they distrust you--you will see me
before you leave, won't you?"
"Will you care to see me if I stand branded as a thief?" The word came
very hard, but in his acridity he felt like not sparing himself; he
wanted to get accustomed to the full obloquy.
"Promise me to come to Ringwood before going away," she answered.
"Yes, I will; and I thank you. No matter how dark the shadow may make
my life your kindness will be a hope light.
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