She put down her knife and fork, and he saw a queer light gathering in her eyes. He had expected a look of joy and triumph, but it wasn't that. "Listen," she said. "A year and a half ago you made a business deal. You bought me, with my own consent, for fifty thousand pounds----" "Cut that out," he muttered. "I ain't sticking to that--now." "But I am." "Eh!" "That night when I escaped from you, by a mean trick, I was glad enough--in a way. But out there, in that cruel wilderness, I came to see that a business transaction, properly conducted, is a sacred affair. When one buys a thing, it belongs to one until someone else can pay the price. That's the position, isn't it?" "Nope. I can give away my property if I wish." "Not in this case." "Hell I can!" "Hell you can't!" "Why not?" "Because--I can't accept anything from you. Food is a different matter. You fixed the conditions yourself--'fifty-fifty' you called it. And that's how it stands." He jerked his chair back and strode up and down the shack. This unexpected swing of the pendulum upset all his arrangements. He feared she did not understand the true state of affairs. "Things is different--I've failed," he growled. "_We've failed_--you mean." "And I'm broke." "_We're_ broke," she corrected. Impatiently he caught her by the arms. He lowered his voice to impress upon her the necessity of carrying out his plan. "Don't you see how we stand? Angela, I'm asking you to do this. I've only that passage money left. This ain't the place for you----" "Why didn't you discover that before?" He bit his lips at the retort. "I guess I was looking at things squint-eyed. I bin used to rough women who were born to hardship----" She flared up indignantly. "And that's just it. You want to make me less than these--wild women. Women are women all the world over. If they can suffer uncomplainingly, so can I. If they can dig gold and mush dogs, so can I. I dug out there along the creeks when you were ill and unconscious----" "You dug----" Words failed him. "Yes. I _won't_ appear contemptible in your eyes. And I won't accept gifts--not even of freedom. You bought me and paid for me, and the debt remains." "But I didn't buy your--soul." "And I'm not giving it you," she retorted. He sunk his head, feeling hopelessly beaten in the argument. All the time he was conscious of inward joy. To let her go was to suffer hell. The sudden fierceness that leaped out from her only increased his insatiable desire for her. She seemed even more beautiful in the role of tigress than in the old frigid pose of a Greek goddess. "Have your own way," he said. "I intend to. You fixed the laws and you can't abuse them. Fifty thousand pounds is a lot of money--more, perhaps, than most men would pay for me. But one day someone may----" He clutched her and glared into her eyes in deep resentment. "Do you think I would give you up for money?--my God!"