"And—afterward—you won't let—them—touch me?"
"No, Tony, no."
His eyes followed hers as she looked at the little shrine again.
"Do you mind?" he whispered anxiously. "I thought—you wouldn't know—if I called—you—Guenevere—at home."
"Tony, dear, no queen ever had a braver, truer knight than you have been to me. Even Launcelot was not half so noble in the service of Guenevere, as you have been in mine."
He smiled happily and seemed to sleep again.
Just at dawn, he said weakly: "Miss Atherton?"
"What is it, Tony?"
"The lilies—are opening—about now,—ar'n't they?"