losely, side by side, both
too weary and worn out to reason regarding that or any other thing.
Once, in the night, I know I felt her arm across my face, upon my head
her hand--she still sleeping, and millions of miles away among the
stars. I would not have waked her.

But now, behold the strange story of man's advance in what he calls
civilization. Behold what property means in regard to what we call laws.
We were rich now. We had two pieces of robe instead of one. We might be
two creatures now, a man and a woman, a wall between, instead of two
suffering, perishing animals, with but one common need, that of
self-preservation. There were two houses now, two beds; because this
might be and still allow us to survive. Our table was common, and that
was all.

I grew stronger rapidly. In spite of my wish, my eyes rested upon her;
and thus I noticed that she had changed. My little boy was no longer a
little boy, but some strange creature--I knew hot what--like to nothing
I had ever seen or known; like no woman of the towns, and no savage of
the plains, but better than both and different from either, inscrutable,
sweet, yes, and very sad. Often I saw tears in her eyes.

During that first night when we slept apart, the wolves came very close
to our meat heaps and set up their usual roaring chorus. The terror of
this she could not endure, and so she came creeping with her half robe
to my side where I lay. That was necessary. Later that night when she
awoke under the shelter of her half hide, she found me sitting awake,
near the opening. But she would not have me put over her my portion of
the robe. She made of our party two individuals, and that I must
understand. I must understand now that society was beginning again, and
law, and custom. My playfellow was gone. I liked scarce so well this new
creature, with the face of a Sphinx, the form of a woman, the eyes of
something hurt, that wept--that wept, because of these results of my own
awkwardness and misfortunes.

I say that I was growing stronger. At night, in front of her poor
shelter, I sat and thought, and looked out at the stars. The stars said
to me that life and desire were one, that the world must go on, that all
the future of the world rested with us two. But at this I rebelled. "Ah,
prurient stars!" I cried, "and evil of mind! What matters it that you
suffer or that I suffer? Let the world end, yes, let the world end
before this strange new companion, gained in want