a pipe dream, but, George!
it's true--it's true, and I can't quite believe it."

The Pearl stood leaning against a great palm tree. She seemed hardly to
hear him. Her eyes were on the waving, shimmering horizon line of the
desert. Her face held a sort of wistful dreaming.

"'The Garden of Eden!'" she repeated. "I've heard of it, too. It was a
place where you were always happy, but"--still wistfully--"I haven't
found that place yet." She turned her vaguely troubled eyes on him and
then sighed and drooped against the tree.

"You can have things as you please, if you'll come to me." His speech
was rapid, hard-breathing; it was as if he hardly knew what he was
saying, but was talking merely to relieve the tension. "I'm boss and I
can manage that you shall dance when you please, and come back here for
a little breathing spell whenever you want. But," with an impatient
gesture, "I ain't here to talk business. That's what I came to Paloma
for--business. That's all I was before I met you, just a cold, hard
business proposition. I guess I was pretty hard-headed. They seemed to
think so in my line, anyway. I thought I knew it all." He gave a short
laugh. "I'm not so young. I thought I knew life pretty well--had kind of
wore it out, in fact. I thought I'd loved more than one woman; but I
know now that I've never loved, never lived before, that I've just woke
up, here in this Garden of Eden.

"Pearl," the beads of sweat stood out on his brow, "I ain't made you
out. I know you're one thing one hour and another the next. I'm no vain
boy. I can't tell whether you've been drawing me on one minute and
holding me back the next just because you got to annex the scalp of
every man your sweet eyes fall on. That's all right, honey, I ain't
blaming you; but there's been moments lately, Pearl, when I've thought
that maybe you might care, moments when I been plumb crazy with joy. You
ain't let 'em last very long, honey," with a strained smile, "but they
most made up for the black question mark that came after 'em." He drew
out his handkerchief and wiped his wet brow with a trembling hand.

She threw back her head and smiled into his eyes through her narrowed
lids. She held out her hands to him; and with one step Hanson lifted her
clear off the ground, gathering her up in his arms, holding her against
his heart and kissing her scarlet mouth.

And she wound her arms about his neck and returned those kisses.

"Put me down," she said at last