“Oh, Paul,” cried the girl, drawing up his head to her breast, while the tears came flowing from her eyes, “I was afraid you were dead.”
Her voice seemed to arouse him. “Dead! What’s wrong with me?” he said, sitting up and swaying stupidly.
“Lie still,” ordered Adelina sharply. “Don’t move for a few minutes.”
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” said Dalton. Adelina caught the look which Paul flashed up at his friend. Her face flushed scarlet, but Dalton remained gravely serene.
“You stay there where you are till I tell you to move,” commanded Adelina imperiously.
“Quite right,” said Dalton heartily. “Stay right there.”
“And perhaps you might feel if any of his bones are broken,” said Adelina severely, flashing an indignant look out of her lustrous eyes at that young man.
“Oh, certainly,” said Dalton, grabbing hold of a leg. “That’s all right, eh, Paul?” he inquired, manipulating that member of his anatomy gingerly.
“Oh, get out, Dalton. My bones are all right. Nothing wrong with me. I have often been pitched like this before. So have you, Adelina.”
“Have seen ’em killed, too,” said Adelina, with a shudder. “But thank Heaven you’re not that,” she added with a little laugh that somehow did not go with her pale face and strained tone of voice.