“Father won’t go without you, I believe.  Won’t you come, if I ask you?”

“No.”

“Work, I suppose,” said the girl; “the work that you love better than anything in the world.”

“You’re wrong there.”  His voice was not quite steady now.  “But it’s work that has to have my first consideration now.  And there is one special responsibility that I can’t evade, for the present, anyway.”

“And afterward?” She dared not look at him as she spoke.

“Ah, afterward.  There’s too much ‘perhaps’ in the afterward down here.  We science grubbers on the outposts enlist for the term of the war,” he said, smiling wanly.

“How can I—­can we go and leave you here?” she demanded obstinately.

“Oh, give me a square meal once in a while, and a night’s rest here and there, and I’ll do well enough.”

“Oh, dear!  I forgot your sleep.  Here I’ve been chattering like a magpie.  Take off your coat and lie down on that sofa at once.”

“Where shall I find you when I wake up?”

“Right where you leave me when you fall asleep.”

“Oh, no!  You mustn’t wear yourself out watching over me.”

“Hush!  You’re under orders.  Give me the coat.”  She hung it on the back of a chair.  “Not another word now.  And I’ll call you when time is up.”

He closed his eyes, and the girl sat studying his face in the dim light, graving it deep on her inner vision, seeking to formulate some conception of the strange being so still and placid before her.  How had she ever thought him ridiculous and uncouth?  How had she ever dared to insult him by distrust?  What did it matter what other men, estimating him by their own sordid standards, said of him?  As if her thought had established a connection with his, he opened his eyes and sat up.

“I knew there was something I wanted to ask you,” he said.  “What did your ‘Never, never, never’ mean?”

“A foolish misunderstanding that I’m ashamed of.”

“Was it that—­that woman-gossip business?”

“Yes.  I was stupid.  Will you forgive me?”

“What is there to forgive?  Some time, perhaps, you’ll understand the whole thing.”

“Please don’t let’s say anything more about it.  I do understand.”

This was not quite true.  All that Polly Brewster knew was that, with those clear gray eyes meeting hers, she would have believed his honor clean and high against the world.  The presence of the woman, even that dress fluttering in the wind, was susceptible of a hundred simple explanations.

“Ah, that’s all right, then.”  There was relief in his tone.  “Of course, in a place like this there is a lot of gossip and criticism.  And when one runs counter to the general law—­” “Counter to the law?”

“Yes.  As a rule, I’m not ‘beyond the pale of law,’” he said, smiling.  “But down here one isn’t bound by the same conventions as at home.”

The girl’s hand went to her throat in a piteous gesture.