He had taken her fully into his protecting care. She leaned on him without restraint and suffered her eyelids to droop for a moment. Gradually both of them yielded to a sense of weariness—a reaction inevitable from the tension of the previous days.
Drowsiness came on apace, but sleep claimed Yermah an instant only. With a tenderness akin to holiness, he occupied himself with Kerœcia’s comfort. He was completely subdued by her helplessness, and she was in every sense sacred to him.
“She trusts me,” he whispered softly, as he observed the relaxation of her pose.
In his gentleness and solicitude, there was that incipient quality indicated which would make him a kind and indulgent father.
She was to him still such a wonderful being that he was intensely interested in her personality. Curious as a boy with a new toy, he longed to arouse her, yet hesitated to do so. He felt diffident about touching her. Before he could decide what to do, she had opened her eyes with a start.
“Beloved, I thought thou hadst left me,” she murmured, only half-awake.
“No. I am still beside thee. We have both been in dreamland, but thou art more laggard than I.”
“I am much refreshed,” she said, apologetically. “Thou wilt pardon my neglect?”
“I, too, am renewed,” he answered, stroking her hair affectionately.