at the girl, "it is hard to be philosophical when you're hungry.
And I'm hungry."

"Oh, you _are_ better!"

"I'm well, I tell you, except for the bruises bequeathed me by your
brutal brother. Three days--a week, maybe! My God! By the way, is there
any food in the house?"

"Plenty."

"Then--we've nothing to do except get better acquainted, and that is
something I've wanted to do for some time."

Allegheny Briskow sang while she prepared supper, for the reaction from
the strain of the last twelve hours was like an intoxication. Mr. Gray
was in no further danger; he was well except for a bandaged head and
some bruises. And he was here alone with her. They were as completely
cut off from the outside world as if shipwrecked on some island, and,
for the time being at least, he was hers to look out for, hers to wait
upon and to guard. Allie laughed at the drumming of the rain upon the
kitchen roof, and she thrilled at memory of some of the things she had
done. She could feel again Gray's head upon her bosom, his lips against
hers, his body strained to hers. She had listened to his heartbeats;
with her own abundant strength she had shielded him, fought for him,
drawn him, by very force of her will, back to life; the anguish she had
suffered during those long hours became, in retrospect, a poignant
pleasure.

She wondered if by any chance he would remember--there had been times
when he had seemed to be almost rational. She hoped not. And yet--why
not? If he did remember, if indeed he had felt her kisses or heard her
pleadings, that memory, even if subconscious, might serve to awaken
him. It might evoke some response to the flaming passion that had
finally escaped her control. Gray was a strong man; his emotions, once
roused, were probably as wild as hers, therefore who could tell what
might happen? Irresistible forces, fire and flood, had thrown them
together. They were at the mercy of elemental powers, and they were
alone with each other--a man and a woman. Allie hoped against hope; she
prayed recklessly, defiantly, that her hour had struck.

Gray came into the kitchen after a while to warm himself over the
stove. He was still a little bit unsteady on his feet, and his head
felt queer; but he assumed a certain gayety and insisted upon bearing
an awkward hand with the cooking and the dishes. He had never seen
Allie as she was now, nor in a mood to compare with this, and for the
first time he realized how fully she had d