"I know who I am."
Both had spoken in English, and each accent had its own quality. Barclay peered into Ayeshi's face. He was breathing, quickly, with a smothered excitement.
"You're ill, aren't you?"
"I am dying."
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know yet. Are you going to give me up?"
Barclay looked back over his shoulder into the darkness. He was shivering.
"No," he said. "I'll not give you up—not to them."
He made a sign, and they went up towards the bungalow, keeping to the shadow of the trees.
CHAPTER IV