Again the hot tears welled up, and her closed lids could not keep them back. The dumb anxiety that had gnawed at her heart all through the day returned upon her overwhelmingly, became a burden too heavy to be borne. She covered her face and sobbed.
"Chris!" Her husband's voice came down to her in the depths of her distress. His hand pressed her head. "Leave off crying," he said. "You mustn't cry."
She turned her face upwards, all blinded with tears. "Trevor, I know—I know we shan't be in time!"
They were not the words she wanted to say to him, but they came uppermost and were uttered almost before she knew. She wondered if they would make him angry, but it was too late to recall them. She reached out her hands to him imploringly.
"Oh, forgive me for caring so much!"
"Hush!" he said again very gently. "I understand."
He put the hair back from her forehead, and dried her eyes. There was something almost maternal in his touch.
"You mustn't cry," he said again. "I think you will be in time, and if you are, you will need all your strength; so you mustn't waste it now. Come, you are going to be brave?"
"I'll try," she said faintly.
"See if you can get to sleep," he said.