And she was no longer shy in speaking his name, but called him Roger boldly and many times, and twice during that meal of marvelous forgetfulness--though long lashes covered her eyes when she spoke it--she called him 'my husband.'
In truth she was a woman and for the most part Roger McKay-- fighting man and very strong though he was--looked at her in dumb worship, speaking little, his heart a-throb, and his brain reeling in the marvel of what at last had come into his possession.
And yet, even in this hour of supreme happiness that held him half mute, there was always lurking in the back of his brain a thought of Breault, the Ferret.
CHAPTER XIX
In the star dusk of evening the time came when he spoke his fears to Father John.
Nada had gone into her room, taking Peter with her, and out
