ause he felt he
had simply done what God and man expected of him. He stood in
the low doorway for some time, stood there peering and craning
until his fear grew so great that he could no longer put off
ending or confirming it.

"Sleepin'?" said he in a hoarse undertone.

She did not reply; she did not move. He could not see that she
was breathing.

"It'll soon be time to git supper," he went on--not because he
was thinking of supper but because he was desperately clutching
for something that must draw a reply from her--if she could reply.
"Want me to clean up the dinner and put the supper things on?"

She made a feeble effort to rise, sank back again. He drew an
audible sigh of relief; at least she was not what her color
had suggested.

In fact, she was morbidly conscious. The instant she had heard
him at the outer door she had begun to shiver and shake, and not
until he moved toward the bedroom door did she become quiet.
Then a calm had come into her nerves and her flesh--the calm
that descends upon the brave when the peril actually faces. As
he stood there her eyes were closed, but the smell of
him--beneath the earthy odor of his clothing the odor of the
bodies of those who eat strong, coarse food--stole into her
nostrils, into her nerves. Her whole body sickened and
shrank--for to her now that odor meant marriage--and she would
not have believed Hell contained or Heaven permitted such a
thing as was marriage. She understood now why the Bible always
talked of man as a vile creature born in sin.

Jeb was stealthily watching her ghastly face, her limp body.
"Feelin' sickish?" he asked.

A slight movement of the head in assent.

"I kin ride over to Beecamp and fetch Doc Christie."

Another and negative shake of the head, more determined. The
pale lips murmured, "No--no, thank you." She was not hating him.
He existed for her only as a symbol, in this hideous dream
called life, that was coiled like a snake about her and was
befouling her and stinging her to death.

"Don't you bother 'bout supper," said he with gruff, shamefaced
generosity. "I'll look out for myself, this onct."

He withdrew to the kitchen, where she heard him clattering
dishes and pans. Daylight waned to twilight, twilight to dusk,
to darkness. She did not think; she did not feel, except an
occasional dull pang from some bodily bruise. Her soul, her
mind, were absolutely numb. Suddenly a radiance beat upon her
eyes. All in a