To have seen the sun or stars shining down upon me would not have astonished me more. I gazed at her a long moment in silence; she saw that I did so, but made no effort to turn her head or avoid my gaze. Finally I found my tongue.
"Where is Harry?" I asked.
"He is gone to look for water," she replied; and, curiously enough, her voice was quite steady.
I smiled.
"It is useless. I am done for!"
"That isn't true," she denied, in a voice almost of anger. "You will get well. You are—injured badly—" After a short pause she added, "for me."
There was a long silence—I thought it hardly worth while to contradict her—and then I said simply, "Why are you crying, Desiree?"
She looked at me as though she had not heard; then, after another silence, her voice came, so low that it barely reached my ears:
"For this—and for what might have been, my friend."
"But you have said—"