On the sofa near the windows she leaned back against him, her head in the hollow of his shoulder. He sunk his cheek in her hair. "Pen, it's just a week to-day since we met. Isn't that strange?" "What's time got to do with it? I knew the very first moment." "I, too." "Story-teller! The first look you gave me was not that kind at all?" "What kind was it?" "Oh, a kind of ... kind of sprightly look. Observe little bright-eyes!" "Pen!" She laughed delightedly. "Well, it happened so soon afterwards it doesn't count." "I wonder how it is to a man," she murmured dreamily. "With me ... well it was like hating you, you upset me so!" "You made me a little sore, too. You were so bossy!" "You always say that!" It was his turn to chuckle in his throat. "Dearest, I have a confession to make to you," she whispered. "Do you know, when I first read that story in the newspapers I was glad." "Glad?" "Yes, of course I knew that it wasn't true.... And I knew that I shouldn't lose you." "Pen! ... You wouldn't have lost me anyway. I was thinking about it when you came down to the tent splashing through the water. I wasn't going." "Oh Don how sweet that is to my ears! ... Sometimes I have felt that circumstances forced me on you." "Nothing in it! You'd already got your hooks into me." "What an expression!" "You made goodness seem so charming!" "I, good? ... If you knew!" "I do know. I know exactly what I mean. There's so much disgusting hypocrisy in the world a fellow gets to think that the bad people are the only honest ones. You taught me better." Pen turned and clung to him. A tear or two rolled down her cheeks. "Oh, my dear! ... It isn't true! ... But it comforts me so!" Enfolded in happiness and delicious peace, they became sleepy in spite of themselves. Notwithstanding his sleepy protests, she drew herself away from him. "Stretch out," she whispered. "I will sit on the stool beside you where I can look at you. I love so to look at you!" "Pen! ... No! You sleep! ... I'll keep watch!" But he sunk lower and lower. Soon he was gone. Pen sitting beside him could gaze her fill. The moon was coming in the front windows now. The direct rays did not fall on him, but there was light enough for her to see. All relaxed and helpless like that he seemed to belong to her more completely than he ever did awake--and stubborn. She could scarcely bear to look at him. In the end she slept too with her cheek on his breast. She was awakened, she knew not how long afterwards, by a sound. Even in the instant of waking she recognized the sound. It was the stealthy creak of the tin roof outside her window. At the touch of her hand on his cheek Don awoke all of a piece. He slipped noiselessly to the floor. They crept to the middle of the room. With her lips at his ear she breathed: "There's a man on the porch roof." "Did he look in?" "I don't think so. He couldn't have seen you through the screen."