Marguerite Krux had never suffered remorse; thus, she was surprised by the depth of hurt one scornful phrase from Roxton could so inflict.  Even after the apemen attack, she still didn't understand what had moved her to thank the infuriating man for saving her life.  On some deep level, she knew that it just had to be done.  She couldn't leave his shameful words hanging between them. 

And so she *had* thanked him -- not that he had even deigned to acknowledge the fact.  No, he had been too busy listening to the forest.  And, she grudgingly admitted, only to herself, it was a good thing he'd done so otherwise they would have been ape food for certain.

It was a new twist in her life.  Never before had she worried about others' feelings or their opinions of her.  As she thought back to Veronica's furious retort, she paused.  She was forced to admit, and again, only to herself, that she had been wrong to trade the younger woman for a way off the plateau.  Marguerite, though, blamed experience.  Never having had to rely on anyone other than herself, it was easy to sacrifice others for the sake of her own survival. Now, she was beginning to understand that such behavior was indeed the quickest way home.  Only it was home in a body bag -- that is if the T-Rex left any remains to be sent.

But what was most disconcerting of all was that Roxton knew what she was, or at least thought he did, and was still drawn to her.  And, surprising enough, much to her intense irritation, she could not suppress the annoying urge to be near him.  Even as she flaunted the possibility of never seeing him again after their return to London, a small part of her balked at the actuality.  He was worming his way under her skin and would not quit his ever-increasing advance into her thoughts.  His proximity alone inflamed more than one of her senses.

She was a woman unused to changing her mind once her ideals had been set.  Yet, with every passing moment on the plateau, she found a few more preconceptions were shattered -- not that she would ever admit that to anyone in the party.  After all, she had a reputation to maintain.  In the interim, however, she would content herself with the myriad of stones waiting to be collected for future needs.  Greed, and Lord Roxton's opinion thereof, be damned.