They talked on, of life and philosophy, in, language interwoven with classical allusions. Friendship, the finest relationship in Chinese civilization, as it stood, had come to them.... It brought a kind of peace. Doane failed to recognize this sensation as in some degree but a phase of his painful exaltation. It seemed to him then that his struggle, no matter what atonement might lie before, was over. He forgot again the Western vigor that was, and to the last would be, driving his spirit. Meanwhile the swiftly growing acquaintanceship of Huj Fei and Rocky Kane was weaving its bright-tinted weft in and out through the dark warp of Rocky's ill-spent youth. His eyes followed the slightest movement of her slim hands and rested dog-like on her finely modeled head about which the shining wet black hair lay close. To his quick youth she was an exquisite fairy. He felt her as perfume in the air he breathed. Her voice, when she drowsily, prettily spoke, fell on his ear like music in an enchanted land. He could say little; he had never before so lost himself. She tried daintily to conceal a yawn. And he, clasping the child in both arms, turned away to hide its brother. Then, very softly, she laughed and he laughed. “You must try to sleep,” he said gently. “I can no' let you keep my sister. You, too, are ver' tire'.” “It's nothing. I love to hold her. Really! You see, my life hasn't been this way. Maybe, if I'd had a sister...” He stopped; suddenly, vividly sensing what he had been; a hot flush flooded his sensitive face. He could only add then: “I want you to sleep. It may be hours before the boat comes for you. It's been such a horrible night--such a nightmare....” “But you mus' res', too. One of the servan's will take my sister.” “No!” he cried, low, fiercely, “I won't let any one else have her!” Sensing crudely that the child was a chord between them, he tightened his hold. The little head rolled back on his arm; he bent over, tenderly kissed the soft cheek, then looked over it at Hui Fei, staring. During one brief moment their eyes met full in the flickering yellow light. She turned away; in lieu of speech looked about for a spot to lay her head. “Here!” He laid the child on the ground; and, surprised to find himself collarless and coatless, took off his waistcoat, rolled it up and placed it for a pillow. “It's really pretty well dried out,” he added, with an embarrassed little laugh.... Then, as she still said nothing, went on, “Do just lie down there. I'll keep awake. We can't count on the servants; they're all scared to death.” Still she hesitated. “I'm afraid I am ver' tire',” she finally remarked unsteadily. “I can't think ver' clearly.” “Listen!” said he, hardly hearing. “I've got to tell you something. I'm not good enough so much as to speak to you.” “Please!” she murmured. “I don' wan' you to talk abou'--”