"But you cannot sleep out here!"
"I needs must. The sand is warm and soft to my bed."
"There is a better waiting you in the cave yonder."
"But—if I cannot walk, Martin—"
"Why then," says I, "why then you must suffer that I carry you."
"I fear I am—greatly heavy, Martin!"
"As to that—" says I, and lifting her as gently as I might, began to bear her across the beach. And after we had gone thus some way she spoke:
"I fear me I am vastly heavy!"
"No!" says I, keeping my gaze before me.
"Yet you go very slowly."