You were saying-- ?" "That the American Mrs.Meynell was living the life of a savage and living it quite successfully," I said easily.
"Oh," was all she replied; but I could have sworn there was a note of disappointment in her voice.
But "my woman, my mate" kept ringing in my head for the rest of the day and for many days.

Yet never did it ring more loudly than that night, as I watched her draw back the blanket of moss from the coals, blow up the fire, and cook the evening meal.

It must have been latent savagery stirring in me, for the old words, so bound up with the roots of the race, to grip me and thrill me.

And grip and thrill they did, till I fell asleep, murmuring them to myself over and over again..