"Leave you?"
He nodded his head and winced.
"You're always plucky," he said. "Look facts in the face. Kiddies. Thought it over while you were coming." A tear oozed from his eye. "Not be a fool, Madge. Kiss me good-bye. Not be a fool. I'm done. Kids."
She stared at him and her spirit was a luminous mist of tears. "You old coward," she said in his ear, and kissed the little patch of rough and bloody cheek beneath his eye. Then she knelt up beside him. "I'm boss now, old man," she said. "I want to get you to that place there under the rock. If I drag, can you help?"
He answered obstinately: "You'd better go."
"I'll make you comfortable first," she answered, "anyhow."
He made an enormous effort, and then with her quick help and with his back to her knee, had raised himself on his elbows.
"And afterwards?" he asked.
"Build a fire."
"Wood?"