"And you don't hate me?"
"I—LOVE—you."
"You have a queer, deep voice—something like Maureen's. I say, shall we both fight her together?"
"We will," said Maureen.
"Ha! Ha! that's good. Ha! Ha! Ha! Have those horrible nurses gone?"
"They are not near you now. I command you to sleep. Close your eyes and sleep."
"Oh, but I do feel yawny. You wouldn't ask me to sleep if you knew what my dreams were."
"I can promise you will not have those dreams while I hold your hand."
"Then I think I will have a snooze. I am getting quite comfy. Mumsie, she broke her neck—doubled under her you know—and she left her money to Maureen—all of it to Maureen. Poor Henny and I were beggars. I'm getting very sleepy. Maureen has all the money—she who said, 'I hate you!' But you are different, dear angel; you don't hate."
"No; as she hated, so do I in a much greater degree love."