rize-fighter. It might well
be possible to place a bullet through the heart of such a man without
greatly discommoding him."

He spoke as if with some resentment.

After they had gone out, Marjory came in. She hesitated at the door a
moment, perhaps to make sure that he was awake; perhaps to make sure
that she herself was awake. Monte, from the bed, could see her better
than she could see him. He thought she looked whiter than usual, but
she was very beautiful.

There was something about her that distinguished her from other
women--from this nurse woman, for example, who was the only other woman
with whom it was possible to compare her in a like situation. With one
hand resting on the door, her chin well up, she looked more than ever
like Her Royal Highness Something or Other. She was dressed in
something white and light and fluffy, like the gowns he used to see on
Class Day. Around her white throat there was a narrow band of black
velvet.

"Good-morning, Marjory," he called.

She came at once to his side, walking graciously, as a princess might
walk.

"I did n't know if you were awake," she said.

It was one thing to have her here in the dark, and another to have her
here in broad daylight. The sun was streaming in at the windows now,
and outside the birds were chattering.

"Did you rest well last night?" she inquired.

"I heard you when you came in and whispered to the nurse woman. It was
mighty white of you to come."

"What else could I do?" She seated herself in a chair by his bed.

"Because we are engaged?" he asked.

She smiled a little as he said that.

"Then you have not forgotten?"

"Forgotten!" he exclaimed. "I'm just beginning to realize it."

"I was afraid it might come back to you as a shock, Monte," she said.
"But it is very convenient--at just this time."

"I don't know what I should have done without it," he nodded. "It
certainly gives a man a comfortable feeling to know--well, just to know
there is some one around."

"I'm glad if I've been able to do anything."

"It's a whole lot just having you here," he assured her.

It changed the whole character of this room, for one thing. It ceased
to be merely a hotel room--merely number fifty-four attached with a big
brass star to a key. It was more like a room in the Hotel des Roses,
which was the nearest to home of any place Monte had found in a decade.
It was as if when she came in she completely refurnished it with litt