mehow--and just why was not clear to her--it seemed at that moment as
though she had passed the danger mark--as though the very worst lay
behind her--close, scarcely clear of her skirts yet, but all the same it
lay behind her, not ahead.

She knew, and dreaded, and shrank from what still lay before her; she
understood into what ruin treachery to self might precipitate her still
at any moment. And yet, somehow, she felt vaguely that something had
been gained that day which never before had been gained. And she thought
of her lover as she passed through the forest, leaning on Scott and
Kathleen, her little feet keeping step with theirs, her eyes steady in
the red western glare that flooded the forest to an infernal beauty.

Behind her streamed her gigantic shadow; behind her lay another shadow,
cast by her soul and floating wide of it now. And it must never touch
her soul again, God helping.

Suddenly her heart almost ceased its beating. Far away within, stirring
in unsuspected depths, something moved furtively.

Her face whitened a little; her eyes closed, the lids fluttered, opened;
she gazed straight in front of her, walked on, small head erect, lips
firm, facing the hell that lay before her--lay surely, surely before
her. For the breath of it glowed already in her veins and the voices of
it were already busy in her ears, and the unseen stirring of it had
begun once more within her body--that tired white, slender body of hers
which had endured so bravely and so long.

If sleep would only aid her, come to her in her need, be her ally in the
peril of her solitude--if it would only come, and help her to endure!

And wondering if it would, not knowing, hoping, she walked onward
through the falling night.

CHAPTER XVII

THE DANGER MARK

Her letters to him still bore the red cross:

"I understand perfectly why you cannot come," she wrote; "I would do
exactly as you are doing if I had a father. It must be a very great
happiness to have one. My need of you is not as great as his; I can
hold my own alone, I think. You see I am doing it, and you must not
worry. Only, dear, when you have the opportunity, come up if only
for a day."

And again, in November:

"You are the sweetest boy, and it is not difficult to understand why
your father cannot endure to have you out of his sight. But is this
not a very heavy strain on you? Of course your mother and Naida must
not be l