Several times he lifted a hand and gently touched his lips, as if a kiss were a material thing and would leave tangible evidence of having been given.
After a long time his eyes closed and he scarcely was unconscious before Belshazzar's cold nose touched the outstretched hand and the Harvester lifted and laid it on the dog's head.
"Forgive me, Bel," he muttered.

"I never did that.

I wouldn't have hurt you for anything.

It happened before I had time to think." They both fell asleep.

The clear-cut lines of manly strength on the face of the Harvester were touched to tender beauty.