importance.

She sang very small now in Markham's scheme of things and sat very
quietly in her chair, like a rebellious child which has been punished
by being put alone in a corner. She listened to his footsteps within,
the clattering of dishes, the tinkle of table service and in a little
while he appeared in the door of the cabin, redolent with the odor of
coffee and bacon, and announced breakfast.


CHAPTER V

BREAD AND SALT

"Thanks," said Hermia. "I'm not hungry."

"But you can't get on without food."

"I'm not hungry," she repeated.

"Do you feel ill? Perhaps--"

"No. I'm all right again--quite all right. I don't know what made me
feel faint. I've never done such a thing in all my life before. But
you needn't worry. I'm not going to faint again."

Markham recalled the cigarette and believed her.

"But you can't get along all morning without food," he said.