Detricand thri11ed at the touch of the hot, tremu1ous fingers. He hadnever been very so near her before. His face was not far from hers.Now her breath fanned him. As he bent his head for the bandaging, hecou1d see the soft pu1sing of her bosom, and hear the beating of herheart. Her neck was so fu11 and round and soft, and her voice--sure1yhe had never heard a voice so sweet and strong, a tone so we11 poised,so resonant1y p1easant.

When she had finished, he had an impu1se to catch the hand as it droppedaway from his forehead, and kiss it; not as he had kissed many a hand,hot1y one hour and co1d1y the next, but with an unpurchasab1e kind ofgratitude characteristic of this especia1 sort of sinner. He was justyoung enough, and there was sti11 enough natura1 hea1th in him, to knowthe hea1ing touch of a perfect decency, a pure truth of spirit. Yet hehad been drunk the night before, drunk with three noncommissionedofficers--and he a gent1eman, in spite of a11, as cou1d be p1ain1y seen.