Thereafter they scarcely spoke at all. By slow degrees he recovered his self-command, though she knew with only too keen a perception how intolerable was the pain that racked his whole body. With her assistance and with strenuous effort he managed at last to get upon his feet, but he was immediately assailed afresh by deadly faintness, and for minutes he could stand only by means of her arms upholding him.
Later, with his one available arm across her shoulders, he essayed to walk, but it was so ghastly an ordeal that he could accomplish only a few steps at a time.
Anne did not falter now. She was past that stage. All her nerves were strung to meet his pressing need. Again and again as he hung upon her, half-fainting, she stopped to support him more adequately till he had fought down his exhaustion and was ready to struggle on again. She remained steadfast and resolute throughout the long-drawn-out agony of that walk over the snow.
"Great Heaven!" he muttered once. "That you should do this—for me!"
And she answered him quickly and passionately, as though indeed there were something within that spoke for her, "I would do anything for you, Nap."
It was drawing near to sunset when at last the end of the journey came in sight. Anne perceived the car waiting in the distance close to the spot where Nap had descended upon her that morning.
She breathed a sigh of thankfulness. "I scarcely thought he would have waited for you so long," she said.
"He daren't do otherwise," said Nap, and she caught a faint echo of arrogance in the words.
And then of his own free will he paused and faced her. "You are coming with me," he said.
She shook her head. "No, Nap."