But his face betrayed what he did not speak.

Once or twice before Philip had seen the same look of anguish in his eyes, the tightening of the lines about the corners of his mouth.

Slowly the half-breed rose from the table and turned a little from Philip.

In a moment Philip was at his side.
"Jean!" he cried softly, "you love Josephine!" No sign of passion was in Jean's face as he met the other's eyes.
"How do you mean, M'sieur ?" he asked quietly.

"As a father and a brother, or as a man ?" "A man," said Philip.
Jean smiled.