that primitive thing in her, and, though she shuddered to
realize it, she had no regret. Life was life. That Dorn had laid low so
many enemies was grand to her, and righteous, since these enemies were
as cavemen come for prey. Even now the terrible thrills chased over her.
Demon Dorn! What a man! She had known just what he would do--and how his
spiritual life would go under. The woman of her gloried in his fight and
the soul of her sickened at its significance. No hope for any man or any
woman except in God!

These men, these boys, like her father and Jake, like Dorn and his
comrades--how simple, natural, inevitable, elemental they were! They
loved a fight. They might hate it, too, but they loved it most. Life of
men was all strife, and the greatness in them came out in war. War
searched out the best and the worst in men. What were wounds, blood,
mangled flesh, agony, and death to men--to those who went out for
liberation of something unproven in themselves? Life was only a breath.
The secret must lie in the beyond, for men could not act that way for
nothing. Some hidden purpose through the ages!

* * * * *

Anderson had summoned a great physician, a specialist of world renown.
Lenore, of course, had not been present when the learned doctor examined
Kurt Dorn, but she was in her father's study when the report was made.
To Lenore this little man seemed all intellect, all science, all
electric current.

He stated that Dorn had upward of twenty-five wounds, some of them
serious, most trivial, and all of them combined not necessarily fatal.
Many soldiers with worse wounds had totally recovered. Dorn's vitality
and strength had been so remarkable that great loss of blood and almost
complete lack of nourishment had not brought about the present grave
condition.

"He will die, and that is best for him," said the specialist. "His case
is not extraordinary. I saw many like it in France during the first year
of war when I was there. But I will say that he must have been both
physically and mentally above the average before he went to fight. My
examination extended through periods of his unconsciousness and
aberration. Once, for a little time, he came to, apparently sane. The
nurse said he had noticed several periods of this rationality during the
last forty-eight hours. But these, and the prolonged vitality, do not
offer any hope.

"An emotion of exceeding intensity and duration has produced