The girl and the guardsman . nmistakableradiance shining in her face. And yet it is a mans imperativeduty to shut out his troubles, to drawthe veil of his resolution against thesight of his grief—to forget, if hecan. Forget! It was like trying to for-get his fever, to forget that it stillclung to him, sapping his nerve, dull-ing his senses. 119 THE GIRL <Sr THE GUARDSMAN As if to blot out his cares he drewthe cloth over the face of Edith, andturning away flung himself upon thecouch. The couch was a bed of fire, andhe arose again to pace the floor, tostop once more before the veiledframe. Sh
The girl and the guardsman . nmistakableradiance shining in her face. And yet it is a mans imperativeduty to shut out his troubles, to drawthe veil of his resolution against thesight of his grief—to forget, if hecan. Forget! It was like trying to for-get his fever, to forget that it stillclung to him, sapping his nerve, dull-ing his senses. 119 THE GIRL <Sr THE GUARDSMAN As if to blot out his cares he drewthe cloth over the face of Edith, andturning away flung himself upon thecouch. The couch was a bed of fire, andhe arose again to pace the floor, tostop once more before the veiledframe. She was there, just thesame. . Far into the morning he fell, ex-hausted, into the chair near theframe, dropped his heavy head uponhis arm, and yielded at last to thepitying caress of sleep. Some dreams are never told. Theyare for the dreamer alone. When a man has had a fever, andthe night air bears an insidious chill,there are things the man shouldnot do. Yet the gray dawn, tracinganew with its pale finger the night- I20. *// was like iryiug toforget his fever:- THE GIRL &- THE GUARDSMAN dimmed images of reality, found Bar-ton still there, his head upon his arm,wrapped in the mystery of slumber. The city about him waked andstirred, but he slept on. There wasa sound on the stair and a knockat his door, but sleep still held hissenses. The noise did not arouse him, butwho shall explain the potency of an-other life near our own, another heartbeating high, other lips quivering ina strong emotion ? The door had been standing ajar,and a rustling figure crept in like thedawn itself. . When Barton staggered to his feethe found himself staring at Edith, orwhat might have been Edith, per-haps; Edith, her white garden hatfallen to her shoulders, her raglan 121 THE GIRL &- THE GUARDSMAN suggesting somehow a hurried, im-pulsive departure from the house. For a moment neither of themmade a sound. That she should beother than some creature of hisdreams was to Barton beyond she who h
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