“What brought you here?” he said.
She could only murmur:
“Oh! Eusty! Are you ill?”
Miltoun took hold of her wrists.
“It's all right, I've been working too hard; got a touch of fever.”
“So I can feel,” murmured Barbara. “You ought to be in bed. Come home with me.”
Miltoun smiled. “It's not a case for leeches.”
The look of his smile, the sound of his voice, sent a shudder through her.
“I'm not going to leave you here alone.”
But Miltoun's grasp tightened on her wrists.