"Ah, bah!" said Gabrielle, with scorn. "Talk to me of books--what does one learn from them? Mere stupidities, that is all." "But," persisted Jean, "there are other things that I can do, where the stupidity of which you speak does not show itself so much. For example----" "For example!" said Gabrielle, in a mocking voice. "For example! Tell me, do!" "I forget," said Jean. "Ha! Ha!" laughed Gabrielle, in glee. "What did I say? He forgets, the silly one, forgets all his reading, spelling, arithmetic, his Latin and Greek and Hebrew--all his knowledge. Well, let me remind you, Jean, that you are one of those paragons who can do everything. Not only have you all the knowledge of the world, but you have facilities which mere scholars do not possess. You hunt, you fish, you trap--like an Indian. You run like a deer, jump like a grasshopper, swim like a fish, fly like a bird, almost. Oh, I am sure that you could fly, if you tried. Try once; please do, just for my sake. But to forget all that, and more! How did you succeed in forgetting so much, Jean, my friend?" "It was when I saw you, Gabrielle." "Me!" gasped Gabrielle. "What have I done?" "Nothing, Gabrielle. Yes, everything; for you have stolen my heart." "Your heart, Jean? Impossible! That is what does not exist. A great strong body? Yes. A brain? Certainly. Capacity of every kind? Oh, yes. But a heart? Do not deceive yourself. You have no heart to lose. No, no! Do not touch me! Do not dare! But answer! Is it not as I have said?" "It may be so, Gabrielle; but when will you marry me, dear?" "What is that you say? Marry you? Oh, no; I could not." "Why not, Gabrielle? Why not, little one?" "Oh, there are many, many reasons. In the first place, I do not love you, Jean." "That is because you will not let yourself love me, Gabrielle." "Again, Jean, you do not love me." "How do you know, Gabrielle?" "You have never told me." "Gabrielle, listen to me----" "No, no; I will not. You would deceive me with your talk, great Jesuit that you are. Let me speak. I say that you love no one, Jean Baptiste Giroux. It is your great house that you love, your horses and cattle, your barns, your precious tourists. There is your treasure; there is your heart, Jean Baptiste." "Oh, Gabrielle, what are those things compared with you? They are nothing, nothing." "Jean, my friend, I like to hear you say that. Say it again, Jean." "Gabrielle, what are houses, barns, lands, and all that, compared with my love for you? I love you, dear; and if I value those things it is for your sake. They are all for you. I lay them at your feet, and myself as well." "Do you mean it? Do you really mean what you say?" "Yes, Gabrielle."