Fool and scoundrel certainly Billy was, but there was Kathleen! His lips tightened; he had a strange anxious flutter of the heart.

When had his heart fluttered like this?
When had he ever before considered Kathleen's feelings as to his personal conduct so delicately?
Well, since yesterday he did feel it, and a sudden sense of pity sprang up in him--vague, shamefaced pity, which belied the sudden egotistical flourish with which he put his monocle to his eye and tried futilely to smile in the old way.
He had lain with his eyes closed.

They opened now, and he saw his host spreading a newspaper as a kind of cloth on a small rough table, and putting some food upon it-bread, meat, and a bowl of soup.

It was thoughtful of this man to make his soup overnight-he saw Jo lift it from beside the fire where it had been kept hot.

A good fellow-an excellent fellow, this woodsman.
His head did not throb now, and he drew himself up slowly on his elbow-then, after a moment, lifted himself to a sitting posture.
"What is your name, my friend ?" he said.
"Jo Portugais, M'sieu'," Jo answered, and brought a candle and put it on the table, then lifted the tin-plate from over the bowl of savoury soup.
Never before had Charley Steele sat down to such a breakfast.