"That's true!" And opening his eyes widely again, he gazed full at her—"That's the worst fate of all—to live in the world without anyone to love you! Tell me—when I was delirious did I only talk of Tom o' the Gleam?"
"That's the only person whose name you seemed to have on your mind,"—she answered, smiling a little—"But you did make a great noise about money!"
"Money?" he echoed—"I—I made a noise about money?"
"Yes!" And her smile deepened—"Often at night you quite startled me by shouting 'Money! Money!' I'm sure you've wanted it very badly!"
He moved restlessly and avoided her gaze. Presently he asked querulously:
"Where is my old vest with all my papers?"
"It's just where I put it the night you came,"—she answered—"I haven't touched it. Don't you remember you told me to keep the key of the cupboard which is right here close to your bed? I've got it quite safe."
He turned his head round on the pillow and looked at her with a sudden smile.
"Thank you! You are very kind to me, Mary! But you must let me work off all I owe you as soon as I'm well."
She put one finger meditatively on her lips and surveyed him with a whimsically indulgent air.