Even in midsummer, there are chill nights in the mountains, and as he approached Alexander's house he thought gratefully of the fire that would be burning on her hearth. She was sitting alone when he entered, by a small table, sewing, and she did not rise to welcome him. Lamp and firelight mingled in an orange and carmine glow that fell softly upon her. For a moment, as Halloway, pausing just inside the door, gazed at her, that adventurous hunger that fed upon her beauty became a positive avidity. Perhaps because he was leaving her, her beauty seemed what no earthly beauty is--absolute. "Alexander," said Halloway slowly, "I've got ter go away fer a spell, an' I hates hit--I hates hit like all torment!" She looked quickly up, and his narrow scrutiny told him that she had given ever so slight a start and that into her eyes had come a quickly repressed disappointment. "I'll miss ye, Jack," she said simply. "What business calls ye away?" That was an expected question and its answer was ready. "I've done heired me a small piece of property from an uncle, way acrost ther Verginny line, an' I've got ter fare over thar an' sign some papers or do somethin' ter thet amount." "How long does ye 'low ter be gone?" He shook his head moodily. "Hit's a long journey through ther roughs an' I don't know how much time I'll hev ter spend over ther business, but I reckon ye knows thet I won't tarry no longer then need be." "Don't hasten unduly on my account," she coolly counseled him. "I'll strive ter mek shift somehow ter go on livin'." The man had taken a chair near her and was bending forward, almost, but not quite, touching her. Now he rose and his voice trembled. "Fer God's sake, Alexander, don't belittle me ner mek light of me ternight. I kain't endure hit. Heven't ye got no idee how master much I loves ye? Don't ye see thet ther two of us war made fer each other? I don't aim ter brag none--but ye knows I'm ther only man hyar-abouts thet understands ye--thet holds ye in full-high appreciation!" He paused and she inquired calmly, "Air ye?" "Ye knows hit!" He was talking tumultuously with the onrush of that dynamic spirit which drove him and gave him power. He stood there with his coat open over his magnificent chest, and his eyes alight with the forces that made him exceptional. "Ye knows thet _you_ hain't no every-day woman nuther. Ye knows thet ther like of yore beauty hain't been seed afore in these hills--not in mortal feature ner in ther blossomin' woods ner in ther blue skies over 'em all!" Again he paused, and even while he adhered to a crude vernacular, there was, in the cadence of his voice, a forceful sort of eloquence. In the latent intensity of his personality dwelt a sheer wizardry which few women could have withstood.