Freckles lay whiter than the coverlet, his staring eyes on the ceiling and his breath wheezing between dry lips. The Angel awaited his answer a second, and when none came, she dropped her crimsoning face beside him on the pillow and whispered in his ear: “Freckles, I--I'm trying to make love to you. Oh, can't you help me only a little bit? It's awful hard all alone! I don't know how, when I really mean it, but Freckles, I love you. I must have you, and now I guess--I guess maybe I'd better kiss you next.” She lifted her shamed face and bravely laid her feverish, quivering lips on his. Her breath, like clover-bloom, was in his nostrils, and her hair touched his face. Then she looked into his eyes with reproach. “Freckles,” she panted, “Freckles! I didn't think it was in you to be mean!” “Mean, Angel! Mean to you?” gasped Freckles. “Yes,” said the Angel. “Downright mean. When I kiss you, if you had any mercy at all you'd kiss back, just a little bit.” Freckles' sinewy fist knotted into the coverlet. His chin pointed ceilingward while his head rocked on the pillow. “Oh, Jesus!” burst from him in agony. “You ain't the only one that was crucified!” The Angel caught Freckles' hand and carried it to her breast. “Freckles!” she wailed in terror, “Freckles! It is a mistake? Is it that you don't want me?” Freckles' head rolled on in wordless suffering. “Wait a bit, Angel?” he panted at last. “Be giving me a little time!” The Angel arose with controlled features. She bathed his face, straightened his hair, and held water to his lips. It seemed a long time before he reached toward her. Instantly she knelt again, carried his hand to her breast, and leaned her cheek upon it. “Tell me, Freckles,” she whispered softly. “If I can,” said Freckles in agony. “It's just this. Angels are from above. Outcasts are from below. You've a sound body and you're beautifulest of all. You have everything that loving, careful raising and money can give you. I have so much less than nothing that I don't suppose I had any right to be born. It's a sure thing--nobody wanted me afterward, so of course, they didn't before. Some of them should have been telling you long ago.” “If that's all you have to say, Freckles, I've known that quite a while,” said the Angel stoutly. “Mr. McLean told my father, and he told me. That only makes me love you more, to pay for all you've missed.”