terature.
And the girl, admitting a passion for the poets, invited him to inspect
the bookcase of unpainted pine which Clinch had built into her bedroom
wall.

Here it was he discovered mutual friends among the nobler Victorians --
surprised to discover _Sigurd_ there -- and, carrying it to her bedside,
looked leisurely through the half forgotten pages.

"Would you read a little?" she ventured.

He blushed but did his best. His was an agreeable, boyish voice,
betraying taste and understanding. Time passed quickly -- not so much
in the reading but in the conversations intervening.

And now, made uneasy by chance consultation with his wrist-watch, and
being rather a conscientious young man, he had risen and had informed
Eve that she ought to go to sleep.

And she had denounced the idea, almost fretfully.

"Even if you go I shan't sleep till daddy comes," she said. "Of
course," she added, smiling at him out of gentian-blue eyes, "if _you_
are sleepy I shouldn't dream of asking you to stay."

"I'm not intending to sleep."

"What are you going to do?"

"Take a chair on the landing outside your door."

"What!"

"Certainly. What did you expect me to do, Eve?"

"Go to bed, of course. The beds in the guest rooms are all made up."

"Your father didn't expect me to do that," he said, smiling.

"I'm not afraid, as long as you're in the house," she said.

She looked up at him again, wistfully. Perhaps he was restless, bored,
sitting there beside her half the day, and, already, half the night.
Men of that kind -- active, nervous young men accustomed to the open,
can't stand caging.

"I want you to go out and get some fresh air," she said. "It's a
wonderful night. Go and walk a while. And -- if you feel like --
coming back to me----"

"Will you sleep?"

"No, I'll wait for you."

Her words were natural and direct, but in their simplicity there seemed
a delicate sweetness that stirred him.

"I'll come back to you," he said.

Then, in his response, the girl in her turn became aware of something
beside the simpler words -- a vague charm about them that faintly
haunted her after he had gone away down the stairs.

_That_ was the man she had once tried to kill! At the sudden and
terrible recollection she shivered from curly head to bandaged feet.
Then she trembled a little with the memory of his lips against her
bruised hands -- bruised by handcuffs which he had fastened upon her.

She sat very, very