The look on his face brought her to acute consciousness. It was a dreadful look.
“Try not to begrudge the price,” she murmured. “For the least thing in life you have to pay, you know. To me, love is inestimable.”
At sound of her voice the young dog lifted one of his scraggly eyelids, and, without otherwise moving, thumped his stub of a tail. John’s expression changed. He leaned toward her.
“I shouldn’t regret any price that I myself could pay. But I am not satisfied to let you, who can’t afford it, pay for me. And I won’t.”
She did not understand just what he meant. “You talk as though you were guilty of——”
He caught her hand and pressed his cheek against it.
“Guilty as—Heaven!” he whispered into its palm before replacing it beneath the coverlet. At her disturbed look he added: “I am tired with anxiety for you. Won’t you sleep to rest me? Don’t be afraid that I am going to leave you. I can stay on this watch of love forever, if only you will sleep.”
“John—John?” Vaguely she questioned him.
“You are my mate,” he answered. “Rufus called you a gray dove, but to me you are pure white. Fold your wings and sleep.”
“And are you happy, John?”