"I don't know. Some hours. I thought you would never come to yourself."
"I tried to come to you. I can't swim."
"The sea brought you to me. You were nearly drowned. You slipped me once. If you had again—!"
"What would you have done?"
"Jumped in. I couldn't have stayed on here without you."
"Ah, but you mustn't ever do that—promise, promise! For then you'd lose me for ever. Promise."
"I promise. But there's no for ever of that sort. There's no losing each other, whatever happens. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, I do know. When people love, they find each other for ever. But I don't want you to die, and I don't want to die—yet. But if it is to-night it will be together. Will it be to-night, do you think?"
"I don't know, dear. The storm's breaking up over there, but that's not the only danger."
"But nothing matters, nothing matters at all while I'm with you." She lay heavily against him; her eyes closed, and she shook violently.