the English gentleman to make his bemused laugh a tragedy to those who could read it.
"Quite so," he said. "And what more would a man play for with Andree as partner?"
"By gar; you soon find I play for the dollars," said Andree, and flung the cards on the table. "Pile in, boys. Here, Charlie—Oh, I'm playing with you, eh? Damn!"
She took the tone of those about her unconsciously and faithfully as a mirror, and her soft face hardened like the man-faces as the dirty bills showed on the table. But for Ogilvie the game was not upon the table. Twice his arm slid round Andree's waist and was repulsed. The third time she looked at Robison.
"Pick him off," she said, as a child might say of an insect.
Then Robison saw; and he came to his feet with shaggy forehead and red eyes lowering like the buffalo of his own land. Ogilvie took the hint and his departure, leaving two dollars of his money on the table. Grange rolled it up.
"Hands off, Andree," he said. "I guess he's gotter have this back." He rubbed his nose, staring at her. "You sure are a hornet," he said. "What you want to go spoil our game fer, eh?"
"I guess there are others," said Andree indifferently. "Go look in the bar."
Grange went out, and Robison stooped to the girl. And in the shadows beyond Moosta crooned a placid Cree lullaby to her baby.
"You're carin' for me now?" said Robison, and his rough voice shook with feeling. "Andree, you're carin' for' me now?"
Her eyes dilated. She leaned forward to him.
"I not know what it means," she whispered. "I cannot understand. I cannot know."
Again that look quivered over the coarse, earthy face.
"You ain't learnt what it means fer another man," he said. "I reckon I kin wait so long's you don't do that"
But all a woman's desire to touch beyond her reach was in Andree.
