“It is an evil name,” he said with sudden vehemence. Although he did not see the little movement of dismay she made, he knew that she was leaning toward him. He could not look at her.
“You do not like the name of Sado-ko?” she said. “Why, that is strange!”
At last he looked at her, then wondered why she swiftly blushed, averting her eyes.
“Why strange?” he asked, his eyes lingering upon her flushing face.
“Because it was a name you called unceasingly throughout your illness,” she said.
“I called on you.” He took her hand to hold it closely within his own.
She stammered over her words, thrilling at his touch upon her hands.
“But is my—my name, then—Sado-ko?” she asked.
His troubled eyes were on her face, a wistful wonder in their glance.
“I thought you so,” he whispered softly.