He noticed then a slight swelling quiver of her throat; and he became alive to its graceful contour, and to how full and pulsating it was, how nobly it set into the curve of her shoulder.
Here in her quivering throat was the weakness of her, the evidence of her sex, the womanliness that belied the mountaineer stride and the grasp of strong brown hands on a rifle.

It had an effect on Jean totally inexplicable to him, both in the strange warmth that stole over him and in the utterance he could not hold back.
"Girl, we're strangers, but what of that?
We've met, an' I tell you it means somethin' to me.

I've known girls for months an' never felt this way.

I don't know who you are an' I don't care.

You betrayed a good deal to me.