So he had come back because the Mexicans were not congenial; because business was as profitable here as there; because of any reason, and not because he cared to be near her. She remembered the day she sat on the floor, turning the pages of his letter, seeking the reason which was left untold.

She had not noticed how he looked⁠—only feeling his presence; but she turned deliberately and observed him. After all, he had been absent but a few months, and was not changed. His hair⁠—the color of hers⁠—waved back from his temples in the same way as before. His skin was not more burned than it had been at Grand Isle. She found in his eyes, when he looked at her for one silent moment, the same tender caress, with an added warmth and entreaty which had not been there before⁠—the same glance which had penetrated to the sleeping places of her soul and awakened them.