She was hurrying away.
“Meta!”
She came back.
“Meta, I will not die if—”
He paused hesitatingly.
“If what?”
“If you—if you will stay and nurse me.”
“I will; but now sleep. You are very weak, and, see, twilight is creeping up from the fiord. Close your eyes, and I will play to you.”
“Meta,” said Claude next day.
“Yes, Claude.”