That one word alone Philip had not intended that she should hear.

But when it was out he picked himself up and laughed.
He did not meddle with Jean's cook-fire, but he built a second fire where the cheer of it would light up Josephine's tent, and piled dry logs on it until the flame of it lighted up the gloom about them for a hundred feet.

And then, with a pan in one hand and a stick in the other, he came close and beat a din that could have been heard a quarter of a mile away.
Josephine came out full in the flood-light of the fire, and he saw that she had been crying.

Even now there was a tremble of her lips as she smiled her gratitude.

He dropped his pan and stick, and went to her.