Ben Connor awoke the next morning with the sun streaming across the room and sprang out of bed at once, worried. For about dawn noises as a rule began around the house and the singing of the old men farther down the hill. The Garden of Eden awakened¹ at sunrise, and this silence even when the sun was high alarmed the gambler. He dressed hastily, and opening his door, he saw David walking slowly up and down the patio². At the sight of Connor he raised a warning finger.  
"Let us keep a guard upon our voices," he murmured, coming to Connor. "I have ordered my servants to move softly and to keep from the house if they may."
 
"What's happened?"
 
"She sleeps, Benjamin." He turned toward her door with a smile that the gambler never forgot. "Let her waken rested."
 
Connor looked at the sky.
 
"I've come too late for breakfast, even?"
 
A glance of mild rebuke³ was turned upon him.
 
"Surely, Benjamin, we who are strong will not eat before her who is weak?"
 
"Are you going to starve yourself because she's sleepy?"
 
"But I have not felt hunger."
 
He added in a voice of wonder: "Listen!"
 
Ruth Manning was singing in her room, and Connor turned away to hide his frown. For he was not by any means sure whether the girl sang from the joy she found in this great adventure or because of David Eden. He was still further troubled when she came out to the breakfast table in the patio. He had expected that she would be more or less confused by the presence of David after his queer talk of the night before, but sleep seemed to have wiped everything from her memory. Her first nod, to be sure, was for the gambler, but her smile was for David of Eden. Connor fell into a reverie which was hardly broken through the meal by the deep voice of David or the laughter of Ruth. Their gayety was a barrier, and he was, subtly, left on the outside. David had proposed to the girl a ride through the Garden, and when he went for the horses the gambler decided⁴ to make sure of her position. He was too much disturbed to be diplomatic. He went straight to the point.
 
"I'm sorry this is such a mess for you; but if you can buck⁵ up for a while it won't take long to finish the job."
 
She looked at him without understanding, which was what he least wanted in the world. So he went on: "As a matter of fact, the worst of the job hasn't come. You can do what you want with him right now. But afterward—when you get him out of the valley the hard thing will be to hold him."
 
"You're angry with poor David. What's he done now?"
 
"Angry with him? Of course not! I'm a little disgusted, that's all."
 
"Tell me why in words of one syllable⁷, Ben."
 
"You're too fine a sort to have understood. And I can't very well explain."
 
She allowed herself to be puzzled for a moment and then laughed.
 
"Please don't be mysterious. Tell me frankly⁸."
 
"Very well. I think you can make David go out of the valley when we go. But once we have him back in a town the trouble will begin. You understand why he's so—fond of you, Ruth?"
 
"Let's not talk about it."
 
"Sorry to make you blush. But you see, it isn't because you're so pretty, Ruth, but simply because you're a woman. The first he's ever seen."
 
All her high coloring departed at once; a pale, sick face looked at Connor.
 
"Don't say it," murmured the girl. "I thought last night just for a moment—but I couldn't let myself think of it for an instant."
 
"I understand," said Connor gently. "You took all that highfaluting poetry stuff to be the same thing. But, say, Ruth, I've heard a young buck talk to a young squaw—before he married her. Just about the same line of junk, eh? What makes me sick is that when we get him out in a town he'll lose his head entirely⁹ when he sees a room full of girls. We'll simply have to plant a contract on him and—then let him go!"
 
"Do you think it's only that?" she said again, faintly.
 
"I leave it to you. Use your reason, and figure it out for yourself. I don't mean that you're in any danger. You know you're not as long as I'm around!"
 
She thanked him with a wan⁶ smile.
 
"But how can I let him come near me—now?"
 
"It's a mess. I'm sorry about it. But once the deal goes through I'll make this up to you if it takes me the rest of my life. You believe me?"
 
"I know you're true blue, Ben! And—I trust you."
 
He was a little disturbed to find that his pulse was decidedly quickened by that simple speech.
 
"Besides, I want to thank you for letting me know this. I understand everything about him now!"
 
In her heart of hearts she was hating David with all her might. For all night long, in her dreams, she had been seeing again the gestures of those strong brown hands, and the flash of his eyes, and hearing the deep tremor¹⁰ of his voice. The newness of this primitive¹¹ man and his ways and words had been an intoxicant to her; because of his very difference she was a little afraid, and now the warning of Connor chimed in accurately¹² with a premonition of her own. That adulation poured at the feet of Ruth Manning had been a beautiful and marvelous thing; but flung down simply in honor of her sex it became almost an insult. The memory made her shudder¹³. The ideal lover whom she had prefigured in some of her waking dreams had always spoken with ardor¹⁴—a holy ardor. From this passion of the body she recoiled¹⁶.
 
Someth............