It was a voice as low and heavy as a man's, but had a nervous feminine impulse in it.

"Jerome!" it called.

"Jerome Edwards!" Jerome turned, and saw Paulina Maria coming up the road, walking with a firm, swaying motion of her whole body from her feet, her cotton draperies blowing around her like sheathing-leaves.
Jerome stood still a minute, watching her; then he went back to the house, to the door, and stationed himself before it.

He stood there like a sentinel when Paulina Maria drew near.

The meaning of war was in his shoulder, his expanded boyish chest, his knitted brows, set chin and mouth, and unflinching eyes; he needed only a sword or gun to complete the picture.
Paulina Maria stopped, and looked at him with haughty wonder.