Esme Lester walked along the quiet road and thought of the man she had left seated alone on the stoep, the man whom she believed to be ill. And the man sat on and waited for her return and wondered about her with an interest which equalled her interest in him. She was just a girl, a bright, sweet, wholesome young thing, who had happened along as the other guests at the sanatorium had happened along, and who would vanish again as they vanished, leaving him seated there still to watch further arrivals and departures as he had done for many weeks, as he would probably do for many months. He had never seen any one until this girl came who had held his attention even momentarily. She stood out from these others, some one apart and distinctive. It was not merely that she was pretty; many pretty women came there, but they did not interest him. There was something vivid and arresting about her, some elusive quality which caught his fancy, and which he could not define. He thought she looked sympathetic. When Esme returned an hour later he was still seated on the stoep. She saw his figure against the lighted doorway at his back: to all appearance he had not moved his position since she had passed him on setting forth. But the last of the daylight had departed, and the night was dark; there was no moon and the starlight was obscured by a mist of thin clouds which trailed across the sky. She could not see his face clearly. But as she stepped up to the stoep the light from the passage illumined her features and revealed her fully to the man's gaze. He watched her covertly from under his brows, saw the startled look in her eyes as they caught the artificial light, their curious bewildered blink as the warm glow fell on her face. Her look of blank surprise amused him. It was like the look of a child which steps abruptly into the light out of darkness and finds perplexity in the sudden change. She passed him and went inside; and it seemed to him that the light glowed more dimly, that the night grew darker when she disappeared. He rose and went into the bar and remained there, as was his nightly custom, until the bar closed, when he went to bed. Book 1--CHAPTER THREE. The daylight woke Esme early. The sunbeams found their way through the open window and flashed upon her face and startled her from sleep. She had not drawn her blind overnight; and she lay still for a while and looked at the golden riot without, resting comfortably, with a feeling of lazy contentment and intense ease of mind and body. The sweet freshness of the air poured over her in health-giving breaths. The beauty of the day, the brilliance of the sunshine called her to go out into it and enjoy the morning in its early freshness. She rose and dressed and opening her window wider, put her foot over the sill and dropped down on to the grass.