"But I got to go—give 'em hell," he protested weakly. His head was still confused; he only knew he should be back, fighting beside his friends.
"Not yet," Aura said gently. "There is no need—yet. When there is, you may trust me, Jack; I shall say it."
The Very Young Man closed his eyes. The blurred, iridescent outlines of the rocks confused him; his head was ringing. The girl put an arm under his neck. He found one of her hands, and held it tightly. For a moment he lay silent. Then his head seemed to clear a little; he opened his eyes.
"What are they doing now, Aura?" he asked.
"It is no different," the girl answered softly. "So terrible a thing—so terrible——" she finished almost to herself.
"I'll wait—just a minute more," he murmured and closed his eyes again.
He held the girl's hand tighter. He seemed to be floating away, and her hand steadied him. The sounds of the fighting sounded very distant now—all blurred and confused and dreamlike. Only the girl's nearness seemed real—the touch of her little body against his as she sat beside him.
"Aura," he whispered. "Aura."
She put her face down to his. "Yes, Jack," she answered gently.
"It's very bad—there—don't you think?"