"They sent for me to help," she returned gently.
"Was it because I wanted you so much? My soul has been crying out for you. There is only one face I see in my dreams, and it is yours. You will not leave me?" he asked breathlessly.
"I will stay as long as they let me," she said kneeling at the bedside that she might not miss a syllable that fell from his lips.
"How did you know that I loved you all the time?"
"I did not know." Surely it was wrong for him to speak when he was so ill? yet she longed to hear more. Every word thrilled her through and through.
"Ever since that day—you remember?—when you came to me for help in your danger and suspense; when I saw into that brave, staunch heart of yours, and, for the first time, knew a true woman!" His face was alight with emotion. It was transformed.
"Oh, hush!—you must not talk."
"Yes. I am horribly ill," he panted. "It is ghastly being tucked up like this, unable to get up. But it is worth while if you will stay with me." A pause while he frowned, chasing a thought. "What was I saying? My mind is so confused."
"It does not matter, I understand."
He caught her hand and pressed it to his burning lips, then laid the cool palm against his rough, unshaven cheek.