I have also been almost as long without food.

It was so lonely here, and--and I hardly understood my situation--and I simply could not force myself to eat." He distinguished her words clearly enough, although she spoke low, as if she preferred what was said between them should not reach the ears of the negro, yet somehow, for the moment, they made no adequate impression on him.

Like a famished wolf he began on the coarse fare, and for ten minutes hardly lifted his head.

Then his eyes chanced to meet hers across the narrow table, and instantly the gentleman within him reawoke to life.
"I have been a perfect brute," he acknowledged frankly, "with no thought except for myself.

Hunger was my master, and I ask your forgiveness, Miss Maclaire." Her eyes smiled.
"I am so very glad to have any one here--any one--in whom I feel even a little confidence--that nothing else greatly matters.