"Ah!" She gave a quick gasp. The mists were beginning to clear a little. She became dimly conscious that there was something terrible behind. She raised herself on her elbow, but was instantly assailed by a feeling of sickness so intense that she sank back again.
She was lying with closed eyes when Jake came back to her. He bent over her with a steaming cup in his hand.
"Try a little of this!" he said.
She looked up with an effort. "I don't think I can. Jake, what has happened? Am I ill again?"
"Guess you'll remember presently if you drink this," he said.
She drew back shuddering. "What is it? Not brandy?"
"No. It's beef-tea." He sat down beside her with a resolute air, and she suddenly realized that resistance was useless.
He was very gentle with her, feeding her spoonful by spoonful; and gradually as she swallowed it she revived. Her brain stirred and seemed to awake. Memory came crowding back. Long ere the cup was finished, that last scene in the music-room hung before her like a lurid picture from which she could not tear her gaze.
Quietly Jake set aside the cup. "Maybe you'll sleep better now," he said.
She lifted her heavy eyes to his. "No, I don't want to sleep any longer. Jake, you--you are not going away!"