I turned and stood an instant, speechless with surprise. When I could get my breath I held out both hands and said—“Oh, Louis Duncan!”
“Then you don’t quite—hate the sight of me?”
Meeting of Rose and Louis Duncan. Page [272].
“If you only knew,” I answered eagerly.—“If you could know how anxious every one has felt, and how thankful we all are that you are alive! O, come home with me!”
“Thankful! I had better be dead! But I am not.”
He was very thin and pale, and had a worn, tired look. My heart ached for him.
“No,” I said, “it is better that you are alive. Stephen has been searching for you. He was here last week.”
Louis turned deadly pale at that.
“Come,” I urged.