25/27 It impinged itself upon him, and through him, in a strange and mysterious way. Within these log walls he felt the presence of that spirit--the joy of companionship and of life--which had so terribly eluded and escaped him in his own home of wealth and luxury. He heard Marie speak only once that night--once, in a low, soft voice to Thoreau. She was silent with the silence of the Cree wife in the presence of a stranger, but he knew that her heart was throbbing with the soft pulse of happiness, and for some reason he was glad when Thoreau nodded proudly toward a closed door and let him know that she was a mother. |