And friendship, such an oasis!—Your health!
Our dusty throats need clearing first, and then
Shall drafts drawn deeper clear our dusty souls.”
Thus led he, hurrying on from thought to thought,
Yet not one breath for Edith could he spare.—
Why not? Could he not trust my friendship yet?
Half anxious then, half curious to detect,
Though wary still of love so subtly hid,
My lips, bold-braced yet trembling at the deed,
Essay’d a note to touch him,—Edith’s praise.