"About all, Claire. About all, yet."
"Why do you say 'yet'?"
"I haven't thought it out yet."
"What, Lawrence?"
"My platform, my work-bench for the future."
She laughed, a little sadly. "You would better stop thinking about that for a day or so, wouldn't you?"
"Perhaps. I can't, though."
She drew up a chair and sat beside him. "I'm going to become a regular guard, and if you don't sleep and let thinking wait, I'll scold dreadfully."
He tossed uneasily and turned toward her, his cheeks brilliant with fever.
"I like to hear you scold, Claire," he said. "I shall go my limit."