As Dumas felt the necklace being given back to him, he closed his fingers around it -- accidentally grasping Mari’s hand at the same time.  But instead of pulling away again, he held onto her for a long moment.  Mari’s hand seemed so small compared to his own, almost like a doll’s, triggering an even fiercer protective instinct in Dumas. He knew that his strength could harm and kill.  But for her, perhaps it could also be used for something better.<br/><br/>“Yeah,” Dumas agreed, returning the gentle squeeze that Mari had given him, before releasing her hand.  “I’m okay now.”<br/><br/>For the first time since he’d dropped the necklace, Dumas looked directly at Mari’s face.  It would have killed him if he’d seen pity or fear etched into its expression like ugly scars.  But as usual, there was only compassion and kindness.  Feeling more confident, Dumas stepped behind Mari and once more looped the silver chain around her throat -- this time, without being troubled by any visions from his past.  After only a few minor fumbles, he managed to fasten the clasp.<br/><br/>Rather proud of himself, Dumas moved  back in front of Mari and examined his handiwork.  “You look beautiful,” he murmured.  “I mean, the necklace looks beautiful on you.”