That his body was not
ill, he now knew for the first time. Fever, nausea, pain and droning,
they had all leaped at the infernal manipulation of his disordered mind
with sickening intensity. Now with a terrible effort he summoned each
tattered remnant of the splendid mental strength he had indifferently
abused, disciplined his fleeing faculty of concentration and sat very
quiet.
Philip trusted him. He must not forget! Keela's face had made its
delicate appeal to his finer side until that appeal had been hushed by
the call of his blood. And there were times when Diane had been kind.
He must not forget. Like the stirring of a faint shadow, he felt the
first dawning sense of self-mastery he had known for days.
The horrible Circe with infamous eyes and scarlet robes no longer lured
. . . the terrible sirocco of unbridled passion which had dominated his
body almost to destruction was burning itself out . . . the droning in
his head was very faint. He must not forget Philip, truest and best of
friends.
Carl lay down again beside the fire with a great sigh. He was very
tired--very sleepy.
He slept soundly until morning.
When he awoke it was broad daylight. There was a curious sense of
utter rest in his veins and meeting Keela's solicitous glance, he said,
a little diffidently, that he was better and that he thought they might
go on.
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