He turned his face to the wall, crying silently; he had clasped his hands together with a grip of iron, but soon he had to break the grip, to wipe the tears away....

He lay thus until the paroxysm had passed and he felt that he could master himself. Then he flung the covers aside, sat up suddenly on the edge of the bed, and looked intently at Beret, long and slow.... He began to believe ... and as he looked, he felt his old self returning....

“Are you getting up already?” she asked, greatly surprised. “I really think you ought to stay in bed the rest of the day.”

“Oh, well ...!” He laughed boisterously, rose to his feet, and stretched himself. “I guess I’d better hurry up and get that rickety roof fixed.... We must begin building here as soon as Hans Olsa can find time to help with the hauling!... By God, we’re not going to live like moles all our days!... That drink of yours was pretty good. Have you got a drop left?” He came forward and began pacing up and down the room.... “God!” ... But then he checked himself in time, caught Permand in his arms, and flung him up to the ceiling again and again, until the boy shrieked with delight.

“My, my, how funny we all are to-day!” smiled Beret as she stood there with the bowl in her hands, waiting for them to come to their senses.