"I kept the water for you; I did not want to drink it."
"Nonsense, child; I am strong, and did not need it," lightly. "But do you feel better now?"
"Much better; but I think I will lie down, monsieur, I feel so tired. Is it bed-time yet?" trying to smile.
He looked at his watch by the light that was so feeble now that he could scarcely see the hands moving across its face.
"Yes, it is bed-time. It is past ten o'clock," he said; then, with hesitation: "Are you not too sick for me to leave you, child? I can sit here and watch you while you sleep."
Within himself he thought sadly that the conventionalities of the world were out of place now, when both were hovering on the border of the Unknown Land. Why not sit beside the dying girl and soothe her last sad hours?
But with a pensive smile she answered:
"No; go to your rest, dear friend. I shall do very well alone, but if I feel ill again I will call you."
Thus dismissed, he wheeled his sofa, as usual, into the dark and gloomy little passage outside the door. Then, lingering to press the little hand and say good-night more tenderly than ever in the presentiment that weighed upon him, she startled him by a shrill, frightened cry: