“Yes, comrade, and,”—Punch hesitated for a moment, and then with an effort—“so have I.”
“I am glad of it,” sighed Pen.
Then he winced, for he had made an effort to rise, but sank back again, feeling faint.
“Help me, Punch,” he said.
“Whatcher want?”
“To sit up with my back against the tree.”
Punch hesitated, and then obeyed.
“Ah, that’s better,” sighed Pen. “I am not much hurt.”
“Oh yes, you are,” said Punch, shaking his head.
“Nonsense! I recollect all about it now. Can you get me some water?”