AGAIN THE WOMAN
gentleman, nothing else remained for me to do. Whatever her unguarded eyes may have seemed to reveal, undoubtedly it was no more than kindness, upon which I had no right to presume. Her heart belonged to another; she had definitely told me so, and this knowledge alone was sufficient to decide my action. I could no longer trouble her and retain my self-respect.
I got up slowly, feeling greater weakness than I had been aware of during the excitement of our interview, and advanced to where I could survey myself in the mirror. Evidently one of my nurses had bathed my face, but my uniform jacket was sadly torn, and my appearance was not improved by the cloth bound across my forehead. I removed this, disclosing a jagged cut at the edge of the hair, which had ceased to bleed, however, and I left it uncovered, replacing my hat so that the wound was scarcely visible. A bottle of brandy, half filled, stood on the dresser, and I took a swallow, the fiery stuff sending new life through my veins. The experience of the past few hours had marked me in various ways: I looked older, my eyes heavy from lack of sleep, my face white from loss of blood, my whole appearance that of a man tired and worn out by worry and strenuous exertion. I stood staring at the reflected face, dimly aware that all the appearance of boyhood had gone out of it, realizing that it was indeed my own, yet scarcely recognizing the changed features. It seemed impossible that peril and exertion could have left such plain outward manifestations.
I was still gazing into the glass fascinated by its reve-
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