nightly work with constantly augmenting power. Winston, ever observing
her with increasing interest, imagined that the strain of such a life
was telling upon her health, exhibiting its baleful effect in the
whitening of her cheeks, in those darker shadows forming beneath her
eyes, as well as in a shade less of animation in her manner. Yet he
saw comparatively little of her, his own work proving sufficiently
onerous; the quick jumps from town to town leaving small opportunity
for either rest or reflection. He had been advanced to a small
speaking part, but the remainder of his waking hours, while he was
attired in working-clothes, was diligently devoted to the strenuous
labor of his muscles. The novelty of the life had long since vanished,
the so eagerly expected experience had already become amply sufficient;
again and again, flinging his wearied body upon a cot in some strange
room, he had called himself an unmitigated ass, and sworn loudly that
he would certainly quit in the morning. Yet the girl held him. He did
not completely realize how or why, yet some peculiar, indefinite
fascination appeared to bind his destinies to her; he ever desired to
see her once again, to be near her, to feel the charm of her work, to
listen to the sound of her voice, to experience the thrill of her
presence. So strong and compelling became this influence over him that
day after day he held on, actually afraid to sever that slight bond of
professional companionship.

This was most assuredly through no fault of hers. It was at
Shelbyville that she first spoke to him, first gave him the earliest
intimation that she even so much as recognized his presence in the
company. The house that particular night was crowded to the doors, and
she, completing a piece of work which left her cheeks flushed, her
slender form trembling from intense emotion, while the prolonged
applause thundered after her from the front, stepped quickly into the