"Marishka," he said gently, "you—you have forgiven me?"
But she had moved slightly away from him and was now regarding him impassively. It was too bad for his vision to have played him such a trick. It was so much pleasanter to sleep with Marishka looking at him like that.
"You have had a blow upon the head, Herr Renwick," her voice came as from a distance. "I hope you are feeling better. It was necessary for me to bathe your head with cold compresses."
Necessary! Of course. But it would have been so much pleasanter to know that she had done it because she wanted to.
"So it was au revoir, after all?" he smiled, struggling to a sitting posture.
"You had better lie still for a while," she said briefly.
His head was throbbing painfully, but he managed to make light of it.
"Oh, I'm quite all right, I think," he said looking around the room curiously. "Would you mind telling me what happened and where we are?"
"They struck you down and brought us here. It's one of the gardener's cottages on the estate."
"And you?"