Elizabeth helped him to the small pallet, shook his pillow, and covered him up as if he had been a child.
"You're very good to me," he said, and looked up at her—Tom's bright, fond look of years ago. But it passed away in a moment, and he closed his eyes, saying he was so terribly tired.
"Then I'll bid you good-by, for I ought to have been at home by now. You'll take care of yourself, Tom, and I'll come and see you again the very first hour I can be spared. And if you want me you'll send to me at once? You know where?"
"I will," said Tom. "Its the same house, isn't it, in Russell
Square?"
"Yes." And they were both silent.
After a minute, Tom asked, in a troubled voice.
"Have you forgiven me?"
"Yes, Tom, quite."
"Won't you give me one kiss, Elizabeth?"
She turned away. She did not mean to be hard, but somehow she could not kiss Esther's husband.