And then carrying her swiftly home, he proceeded to go quite mad.
"Well—well," he thought, "people with too much imagination always do end by going mad. And now it's happened to me."
And it was just what did happen to him a moment later, only he was to go mad with a different kind of madness—a sane and wonderful madness.
He touched her and she did not vanish.
He made a sound that was half moan, half pity, and he lifted her in his strong arms. And then carrying her swiftly home, he proceeded, as I have forewarned the reader, to go quite mad. So did she, bless her, until there was no longer any pain in her ankle or in her heart.
"Well—well," said old Martha; "what's all this?"
She stood in the door of the house lighting them with a lamp.
"This," said the Poor Boy in his ecstasy, "is a new and wonderful thing."
He laughed aloud for joy.