She blushed at the sound of the word, and glanced hurriedly about the room, but there was no one to hear, and the man slept on undisturbed by the tiny whisper. She laid a hand upon his shoulder and shook him gently. "Bill--wake up!" He stirred slightly, and a sigh escaped him. "Come, wake up, dear, you must eat." This time she did not blush at the word, and the shaking became more vigorous. Carmody moved uneasily, grunted, and opened his eyes. Ethel started at the steady gaze of the grey eyes so close to her own. The grey eyes closed and he passed a hand slowly across them. "A dream," he muttered, and the girl leaned closer. "No, Bill," she whispered, "it is not a dream. I am here--Ethel--don't you know me?" "Ethel," he repeated, and the name seemed to linger on his lips. "We must get back to her, kid, she is worrying--come--mush, kid--mush!" The girl laid a soft hand on his forehead and smoothed back the tangled hair. "Bill, dear," she whispered, with her lips close to his, "Charlie is safe. And you are safe, here in the office--with me." Bill seemed suddenly to grasp the situation. "Ethel!" he exclaimed. And then, in a dull, tired voice, "I--I brought him back to you." His eyes closed, and he turned his face toward the wall. Ethel poured a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove, and returning, seated herself upon the edge of the bunk. Deftly her arm slipped under his head, and she held the cup to his lips. Bill drank greedily to the last drop, and the girl filled another cup with broth. This time he helped a little, and she raised him higher and pillowed his head against her breast. He sipped the broth hungrily, but very slowly, pausing a long time between sips. Ethel's body thrilled at the touch of him, the little hand that held the cup trembled, and the man, close-pressed against her soft breast, heard the wild pounding of her heart. Suddenly he looked up into her eyes. Her face flushed crimson, and the swift down-sweep of the long lashes hid the soft, blue eyes from the intense, burning gaze of the hard grey ones. In confusion she averted her face. There was a swift movement beside her, and the next instant strong arms were about her, and she heard, as from afar, the heavy thud as the porcelain cup struck the floor. Vainly she struggled in a sudden frenzy of panic to free herself from the embrace of the encircling arms, and her heart was filled with a great, passionate gladness at the futility of her tiny efforts as she felt herself drawn closer and ever closer against the mighty chest of the big man whom, in spite of herself, and of his own shortcomings and weaknesses, she loved with the savage abandon that is the wonder-love of woman. She knew, too, that the deep music in her ears was the sound of his voice which came in short, stabbing, half-sentences.