At last she broke out: "I am not of that crew that came to marry! To me you are the veriest stranger,--you are but the hand at which I caught to draw myself from a pit that had been digged for me.
It was my hope that this hour would never come.

When I fled, mad for escape, willing to dare anything but that which I left behind, I thought, 'I may die before that ship with its shameless cargo sets sail.' When the ship set sail, and we met with stormy weather, and there was much sickness aboard, I thought, 'I may drown or I may die of the fever.' When, this afternoon, I lay there in the boat, coming up this dreadful river through the glare of the lightning, and you thought I slept, I was thinking, 'The bolts may strike me yet, and all will be well.' I prayed for that death, but the storm passed.

I am not without shame.

I know that you must think all ill of me, that you must feel yourself gulled and cheated.

I am sorry--that is all I can say--I am sorry.