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THE STORM WOMAN
125

sincere? I haven’t the least objection in the world to telling you who I am, where I come from, or where I am going when I leave this rock. I have told you that I will not follow you. If there is anything in to-night that you would blush for to-morrow, I will not intrude myself, but I do beg you to believe me when I say that I know I can help you, if you will tell me.”

And that was a very bold and daring statement for Jamie, with six months to live and nothing in his pockets, to make to any woman in distress. Yet he made it in the utmost confidence and there was something in his voice that carried conviction. Before he knew precisely what had happened to him, the thing for which he had striven occurred. The length of his frame he felt the relaxation of the taut muscles beside him. He bent to extend the shelter of the raincoat.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, in exactly the same tone he would have used to a six-year-old. “Now, go on and tell me what happened to you. You needn’t make it a long story. You could probably tell it in ten words if you chose. What hurt you? How can it be fixed?”

Again he could sense the intense thinking.

“All right,” said the voice beside him. “What I need above everything else on earth at this minute is a marriage certificate, and a wedding ring, and a name for an unborn child. My need is desperate. That’s all. Now; go ahead and make good your boast!”

“All right,” said Jamie smoothly, instantly. “The proposition you have put me is almost the easiest thing I