Never had she seemed to dear, so beautiful to him.

The rose-tinted light that fell softly from a Bohemian chandelier over her head, flooded her coiled hair, her face, her hands, with soft warm color.

The slight dressing that her wound now required was covered by a deft arrangement of her hair.

She had regained her usual tint.

Nothing now told of the accident, the close call she had had, from death, so short a time before.