Strange to say, this little, simple half-breed girl had revived this honor and courage, even when he tried most stubbornly to smother it.

If only her love was like her blood, he might have had no scruples; or if her blood were as pure as her love--even then it would be easier; but, as it was, he must give her up to-night, and for all time.

Her love had placed a barrier between them greater and more insurmountable than her blood.
He sat for a long time with the dwindling firelight playing about him, his manhood and his desires locked in a grim struggle, wondering at the hold this forest elf had gained upon him, wondering how it was that she had stolen into his heart and head and taken such utter possession of him.

It would be no easy task to shut her out of his mind and put her away from him.

And she...?
He gently withdrew his fingers from her grasp, and, seeking the other side of the wickiup, covered himself over without disturbing her, and fell asleep.
It was early dawn when Necia crept to him.
"I dreamed you had gone away," she said, shivering violently and drawing close.