İşleniyor
Jane felt the shame then—not because he had shamed her, but because he was right. She had been careless with the trust of people who owed her nothing, and with the love of a man who owed her everything.
Tarzan watched her from the low branch of a muiri tree, his bronze skin streaked with woad and dust. His eyes were not angry. That would have been easier. They were disappointed, and worse—ashamed for her.
Tarzan did not smile. He took her torn hand and pressed it to his chest, where his heart beat slow and strong as a drum.
He turned and threw the locket into the dark river. It vanished without a sound.
“There is nothing to forgive,” he said. “Only something to remember. You are Jane of the Apes now. Act like it.”
“This,” he said, “is nothing. You are my mate. You are worth a hundred villages. But you acted like a thief. And a thief in the jungle does not live.”