"Yes, dear. Do you feel more comfortable now?"
"I feel ... dying," she murmured, still in that thin whisper. "Jim ... I'm so sorry. I've been a wicked girl—but you must forgive me, because I'm going to die."
"No, no, dear." His heart stirred within him at the startling change in her, and he slipped to his knees beside the bed. "You are going to get better and be my own dear little wife again. There is no need to talk of forgiveness, Eva. That's all over long ago. Now I have only to love you."
"I'm glad you've forgiven me." When she had spoken she closed her eyes again; and Herrick felt himself turn cold, thinking she were dying indeed.
Presently she re-opened those sunken eyes, and her lips moved faintly. Bending down he caught her words.
"Jim ... I'm sorry about Toni. She's safe—in Italy—in Naples...."
"You're sure, dear?" He spoke quietly, though his heart gave a throb of relief at her words.
"Yes. I can't remember her address." Her brows contracted pitifully. "But she works in the library of an Italian called Zanoni—is that enough? Can you find her from that?"
"Why, yes, dear." He knew it would only be a matter of time to trace the girl now. "And you must not worry about her any more. Close those big eyes of yours and go to sleep."
She gave a little sigh, and her tiny bandaged hand lifted itself feebly as though seeking his. Instantly he laid his own warm fingers over hers; and a moment later Eva was asleep.