"Don't!" I said, and my voice was a whisper; "don't, Charmian!"
For a moment her clasp tightened about me, she was all tenderness and clinging warmth; then I heard a sudden gasp, her arms loosened and fell away, and so I presently raised my head, and, supporting myself upon my hand, looked at her. And then I saw that her cheeks were burning.
"Peter."
"Yes, Charmian?"
"Did you—" She paused, plucking nervously at the grass, and looking away from me.
"Well, Charmian?"
"Did you—hear—" Again she broke off, and still her head was averted.
"I heard your voice calling to me from a great way off, and so—I came,
Charmian."
"Were you conscious when—when I—found you?"
"No," I answered; "I was lying in a very deep, black, pit." Here she looked at me again.