XIV
As Sybil entered she heard again that strange, choked cry. The sick man was struggling to rise, but could not.
She went straight to the narrow pallet on which he lay and bent over him.
"Robin!" she said.
He gave a great start, and became intensely still, lying face downwards, his body twisted, his head on his arm.
She stooped lower. She touched him. A superhuman strength was hers.
"Robin," she said, "do you know me?"
He turned his face a little, and she saw the malignant horror of the disease that gripped him. It was a sight that would have turned her sick at any other time. But to-night she knew no weakness.
"Who are you?" he said, in a gasping whisper.