Now Fleda moved forward towards where he stood, quickening her footsteps
as though remembering something she must do. He stepped out into the path
and came to meet her. She heard his footsteps, saw him, and stood still
abruptly.
She did not make a sound, but a hand went to her bosom quickly, as though
to quiet her heart or to steady herself. He had broken suddenly upon her
intent thoughts, he had startled her as she had been seldom startled, for
all her childhood training had been towards self-possession before
surprise and danger.
"This is not your side of the Sagalac," she said with a half-smile,
regaining composure.
"That is in dispute," he answered gaily. "I want to belong to both sides
of the Sagalac, I want both sides to belong to each other so that either
side shall not be my side or your side, or--"
"Or Monsieur Felix Marchand's side," she interrupted meaningly.
"Oh, he's on the outside!" snapped the fighter, with a hardening mouth.
She did not reply at once, but put her hat on, and tied the ribbons
loosely under her chin, looking thoughtfully into the distance.
"Is that the Western slang for saying he belongs nowhere?" she asked.
"Nowhere here," he answered with a grim twist to the corner of his mouth,
his eyes half-closing with sulky meaning.
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