Eve slept the sleep of mental and physical exhaustion. Reaction from fear brings a fatigue more profound than that which follows physical overstrain. But the healthy mind, like the healthy body, disposes very thoroughly of toxics which arise from terror and exhaustion.
The girl slept profoundly, calmly. Her bruised young mind and body left her undisturbed. There was neither restlessness nor fever. Sleep swept her with its clean, sweet tide, cleansing the superb youth and health of her with the most wonderful balm in the Divine pharmacy.
She awoke late in the afternoon, opened her flower-blue eyes, and saw State Trooper Stormont sitting by the window, and gazing out.
Perhaps Eve's confused senses mistook the young man for a vision; for she lay very still, nor stirred even her little finger.
After a while Stormont glanced around at her. A warm, delicate colour stained her skin slowly, evenly, from the throat to hair.
He got up and came over to the bed.
"How do you feel?" he asked, awkwardly.
"Where is dad?" she managed to inquire in a steady voice.
"He won't be back till late. He asked me to stick around -- in case you needed anything----"
The girl's clear eyes searched his.
"Trooper Stormont?"
"Yes, Eve."
"Dad's gone after Quintana."
"Is he the fellow who misused you?"
"I think so."
"Who is he?"
"I don't know."
"Is he your enemy or your stepfather's?"
But the girl shook her head: "I can't discuss dad's affairs with -- with----"
"With a State Trooper," smiled Stormont. "That's all right, Eve. You don't have to."
There was a pause; Stormont stood beside the bed, looking down at her with his diffident, boyish smile. And the girl gazed back straight into his eyes -- eyes she had so often looked into in her dreams.
"I'm going to cook you an egg and bring you some pie," he remarked, still smiling.
"Did dad say I am to stay in bed?"
"That was my inference. Do you feel very lame and sore?"
"My feet burn."
"You poor kid! ... Would you let me look at them? I have a first-aid packet with me."
After a moment she nodded and turned her face on the pillow. He drew aside the cover a little, knelt down beside the bed.
Then he rose and went downstairs to the kitchen. There was hot water in the kettle. He fetched it back, bathed her feet, drew out from the cut and scratch the flakes of granite-grit and brier-points that still remained there.