She can heap coals of fire on your head without coming into your tent.

Consider that you sought to take her life--and she seeks to save yours! She is as anxious to keep you alive as you are anxious to kill her." He lay as in a reverie.

His long white hair made his clear-cut, thin face look more unearthly than ever, with the hectic flush of fever upon it.

At last he turned to me.

"We each work for our own ends," he said, in a weary way.