The voice came from behind my shoulder, a yard or two away, a voice very meek and piteous, eloquent of an exhaustion and a weakness so great that, had they been real, she must have fallen by me, not stood upright on her feet. Against such stratagems I would be iron. I paid no heed, but lay like a log.
"Simon, I'm very thirsty too."
Slowly I gathered myself up and, standing, bowed.
"There's a fragment of the pasty," said I; "but the jug is empty."
I did not look in her face and I knew she did not look in mine.
"I can't eat without drinking," she murmured.
"I have nothing with which to buy liquor, and there's nowhere to buy it."
"But water, Simon? Ah, but I mustn't trouble you."
"I'll go to the cottage and seek some."