I've great respect for you.

I believe you're softened toward most, perhaps all, my people except--But when I speak of your purpose, your hate, your guns, I have only him in mind.

I don't believe you've changed." For answer he unbuckled the heavy cartridge-belt, and laid it with the heavy, swing gun-sheaths in her lap.
"Lassiter!" Jane whispered, as she gazed from him to the black, cold guns.

Without them he appeared shorn of strength, defenseless, a smaller man.

Was she Delilah?
Swiftly, conscious of only one motive--refusal to see this man called craven by his enemies--she rose, and with blundering fingers buckled the belt round his waist where it belonged.
"Lassiter, I am a coward." "Come with me out of Utah--where I can put away my guns an' be a man," he said.