She drew his hand into the warm bed, and folded it under her warm fingers against her breast: “Have you had a happy day, Noll?” she asked. Noll yawned--he was very weary.... All day he had forgotten Betty; he was now so occupied with his own weariness that he dully failed to see there was one in his life who was selflessly eager to hear of his doings. As he unlaced his boots and undressed, he told her baldly of his day’s adventures, but he scarcely troubled to recall the events--he was very sleepy, he said. Indeed, he had been shining all day, and, however attentive this single audience, it was not the same thing as the rousing applause that made his wits glitter in the midst of the wild good-fellowship. His adventures, robbed of the drolleries and stripped of the fantastic details that had made the laughter and the interest, sounded tedious enough. Ah, Noll, thou numbskull! hath it not dawned upon thee, then, that thou canst kill this all so precious love for thee by these ignorings of it--just as much by neglect of her for the goodwill of thy rollicking so-called friends as by neglect of her for another woman? Indeed, the difference is but a toy of hypocrisy. If thou must drift off to selfish pursuits, what boots it that thy pursuit be this or that or the other? If thou must needs bawl thy share of the chorus in the night-haunts of the poetasters, why not have her dear companionship beside thee? Does it fulfil thy manhood the more to frequent the taverns at night in the boon fellowship of these little spendthrift intelligences? Hast thou more of magnificence in this killing of time than in the sweet comradeship of this one whose name is like to ring out over the four corners of the world wheresoever thy language is spoken? In the years to come the greatest will seek her companionship, treasure her smile; yet she will be the same woman then, is therefore the same now--if thou hadst but the world’s acclamation to point thee to it. CHAPTER LVIII _Wherein the Tears of Compassion heal the Bleeding Feet of a Straying Woman_ Betty fell feverishly a-drowsing as the chill dawn crept stealthily into the room. When she awoke, Noll was still sleeping. As she sat up in bed, heavy with unfinished sleep, she remembered the letter of the night before. She slipped out of bed and dressed. She descended gloomy stairways that were still haunted by the lingering shadows of the departed night. She hurried to Moll Davenant’s quarters. The leaves were falling from the trees, and their bitter scent filled the air with the pungent fragrance of late autumn. Betty had not seen Moll for some weeks now--the door had been sternly closed to her knock. But she decided to haunt the threshold until she got admittance. There was little need for setting the will to a stern resolution. As Betty reached the topmost step of the high climb she paused to take breath; and from within the door she heard the harsh cough that told of the girl’s struggle for life.