A heavier tread approached.
“Is he better?” It was Karasch’s gruff voice reduced to a whisper.
“I have been bathing his head,” was the reply.
I could have laughed in sheer ecstasy at the sweet remembrance of part of that treatment. And she called it “bathing.” But I did better than laugh. I moved slightly and sighed. I must not show full consciousness too soon after that “bathing.”
“He moved then,” she said, with a start, in a tone of pleasure, and I felt her bend hurriedly over me again in the pause that followed.
Karasch broke the silence.
“It is not safe for you to stay any longer,” he said. “I came to tell you.”
The words opened the floodgates of my memory to all that had occurred. I had forgotten everything; but in a moment I understood.
“I told you I should not leave him, Karasch.”
“He would wish it, I know. Your safety comes first with him.”