d watch alone. She had eaten nothing since
the day before, only sipping the coffee Azalea had brought her.

It was one of those breathless hours before a rain when not a leaf
stirs; even the birds were silent. Cassandra tried once more to give
David a few drops of the whiskey, and this time it seemed as if he
swallowed a little. She thought she saw his eyelids quiver, and her
heart pounded suffocatingly in her breast. She dropped beside him on her
knees and once again tried to give him the only stimulant they had. This
time she was sure he took it, and, still kneeling there, she bowed her
head and pressed her lips upon the hand she had been chafing. Did it
move or not? She could not tell, and again she sat gazing in the still,
white face. Oh, the suspense! Oh, the joy that was agony! If this were
truly the awakening and meant life! In her intensity of longing for some
further signs she drew slowly nearer and nearer, until at last her lips
touched his. Then in shame she hid her face in the quilt at his side
and, weak with the exhaustion of her long anguish and fasting and
watching, she wept the first tears--tears of hope she was not strong
enough to bear. As she thus knelt, weeping softly, his fluttering
eyelids lifted and he saw her there, and felt the quivering hand beneath
his head.

Not understanding how or why this should be, he waited perfectly still,
trying to gather his thoughts. A great peace was in his heart--a peace
and content so sweet he did not wish to move. Lingering beneath this
content, he held a dim memory of a great anger--a horror of anger, when
he saw red, and hungered for blood. Vaguely it seemed to him now that
all was as he wished it to be with Cassandra near. He liked to feel her
hand beneath his head and her other hand upon his own, and her heavy
bronze hair so close, and he closed his eyes once more to shut out all
else, for the room was strange to him--this raftered place all
whitewashed from ceiling to floor.

He had forgotten what had happened, but Cassandra was there, and he was
content. Something had touched his lips and brought him back, he was
sure of that, and his weakly beating heart stirred to more vigorous
action. He turned his head a little, a very little, toward her, and his
fingers closed about her hand to hold it there. She lifted her head
then, and they looked into each other's eyes, a long, deep look. Later,
when Azalea entered, she found them both sleeping, Cassandra's hand