“You are better, Bulan,” she said. “You have been very sick, but now you shall soon be well again.”
She did not believe her own words, yet the mere saying of them gave her renewed hope.
“Yes,” replied the man. “I shall soon be well again. How long have I been like this?”
“For two days,” she replied.
“And you have watched over me alone in the jungle for two days?” he asked incredulously.
“Had it been for life,” she said in a low voice, “it would scarce have repaid the debt I owe you.”
For a long time he lay looking up into her eyes—longingly, wistfully.
“I wish that it had been for life,” he said.
At first she did not quite realize what he meant, but presently the tired and hopeless expression of his eyes brought to her a sudden knowledge of his meaning.
“Oh, Bulan,” she cried, “you must not say that. Why should you wish to die?”