It was the smile of the master who realizes the potent influence of the ally who has aided in his exaltation and who meditates reward through the simple method of bestowing upon the ally without reservation that citadel which she has helped to take and which, needless to say, she prizes.

But it was something more, too, that smile.

It was the smile of the mere Man--the man, repentant, humble, petitioning to the woman he has selected as his mate.
"I reckon," he said; "that they all thought we wanted to be alone." But the ally was not prepared for this precipitate bestowal of reward, and as she blushed and looked down at the toe of her shoe, sticking out from beneath the hem of her skirt, she looked little like a person who had conducted a bitter war for the master who stood near her.
"Oh," she said; "did you hear them ?" "I reckon I heard them," he said.

He went closer to her.

"They're wise--Dade an' Malcolm.