"Has anything happened? Is some one sick?"
"No. It's not that. I'm going."
"Going? Going where—" She was not yet fully awake, filaments of sleep clouded her clearness.
"Into the mountains with Zavier."
The filaments were brushed away in a rough sweep. But her brain refused to accept the message. In the dark, she clutched at the body against her, felt the beat of pulses distinct through the clothing, the trembling of the hands going down through her flesh and muscle to her heart.
"What do you mean? Where?"
"I don't know, into the mountains somewhere."
"With Zavier? Why?"
"Because he wants me to and I must."
"But— Oh, Lucy—" she struggled from the blanket to her knees—"Oh, Lucy!"