With a vivid remembrance of the great catastrophe of her life he appeared to her with all the fascination of a great and dangerous thing; of a terror vanquished, surmounted, made a plaything of.

They spoke with just such a deep voice--those victorious men; they looked with just such hard blue eyes at their enemies.

And she made that voice speak softly to her, those eyes look tenderly at her face! He was indeed a man.

She could not understand all he told her of his life, but the fragments she understood she made up for herself into a story of a man great amongst his own people, valorous and unfortunate; an undaunted fugitive dreaming of vengeance against his enemies.

He had all the attractiveness of the vague and the unknown--of the unforeseen and of the sudden; of a being strong, dangerous, alive, and human, ready to be enslaved.
She felt that he was ready.