It seemed as if this last hour in the darkness of camp had brought her nearer to him, and he gently took her hands in his own and held them for a moment close to him.

They were cold and trembling, and one of them that had rested under her cheek was damp with tears.
"You mustn't do this any more," he whispered.
"I'll try not to," she promised.

"Please let me stand a little in the warmth of the fire.

I'm cold." He led her close to the flaming birch logs and the heat soon brought a warm flush into her cheeks.

Then they went to where Jean had spread out their supper on the ground.