n instant, before the lifting of her eyelids, soul
and body became exquisitely acute; for she thought it was he
come again, with a lamp. She looked; it was the moon whose beams
struck full in at the uncurtained window and bathed her face in
their mild brightness. She closed her eyes again and presently
fell asleep--the utter relaxed sleep of a child that is worn out
with pain, when nature turns gentle nurse and sets about healing
and soothing as only nature can. When she awoke it was with a
scream. No, she was not dreaming; there was an odor in the
room--his odor, with that of a saloon added to it.

After cooking and eating supper he had taken the jug from its
concealment behind the woodbox and had proceeded to cheer his
drooped spirits. The more he drank the better content he was
with himself, with his conduct, and the clearer became his
conviction that the girl was simply playing woman's familiar
game of dainty modesty. A proper game it was too; only a man
must not pay attention to it unless he wished his woman to
despise him. When this conviction reached the point of action he
put away the jug, washed the glass, ate a liberal mouthful of
the left-over stewed onions, as he would not for worlds have his
bride catch him tippling. He put out the lamp and went to the
bedroom, chuckling to himself like a man about to play a
particularly clever and extremely good-humored practical joke.
His preparations for the night were, as always, extremely simple
merely a flinging off of his outer clothes and, in summer, his
socks. From time to time he cast an admiring amorous glance at
the lovely childlike face in the full moonlight. As he was about
to stretch himself on the bed beside her he happened to note
that she was dressed as when she came. That stylish, Sundayish
dress was already too much mussed and wrinkled. He leaned over to
wake her with a kiss. It was then that she started up with a scream.

"Oh--oh--my God!" she exclaimed, passing her hand over her brow
and staring at him with crazed, anguished eyes.

"It's jest me," said he. "Thought you'd want to git ready fur
bed, like as not."

"No, thank you, no," she stammered, drawing away toward the
inner side of the bed. "Please I want to be as I am."

"Now, don't put on, sweetness," he wheedled. "You know you're
married and 'ave got to git used to it."

He laid his hand on her arm. She had intended to obey, since
that was the law of God and man and sinc