“Why, it’s quite morning,” he said.
“Absolutely,” said Frank.
“And I’ve slept ever since you told me we were in dormitory together,” he said. “How long ago was that?”
“Oh, about twelve hours,” said Frank.
“And you’ve sat here all the time?”
“Think so.”
“Oh, I say! And just because you thought I might want you.”
David’s eyes were bright and untired again: there was life shining behind them, young life that may still be feeble as the snowdrops raising their frail heads above the ground on some sunny morning of February are feeble. But they answer to the beckoning of spring, not, like late autumn blossoms, feeling the chill of the winter that approaches.
Frank leaned over him.
“Yes, I thought you might want me,” he said; “but also I couldn’t go away. I wanted you.”