"I can lie here, Nan," he said. "Will you—help me?"
Exerting all her strength the girl helped him to the ground. The position he had chosen was close to the still form of his dead wife. Once he was safely resting again, Nan breathed her relief.
He looked up at her, and something like a smile was in his blue eyes.
"Thanks, Nan. Say—I'll need that coat of yours—later. Will you go along—and get it?"
Nan moved away. She needed no second bidding. Nor did she return until the man's voice summoned her.
"Nan!" he called.
She came to him at once bearing her coat in her hands. For a second, surprise widened her eyes. He was no longer where she had left him. He had moved a few yards away. And she wondered how he had been capable of the unassisted effort. Then she glanced swiftly at the dead woman. The covering over the body had been moved. She was certain. It had been replaced differently from the way she had arranged it. She offered no comment, but busied herself spreading her coat over the man's bared chest, where the rough bandages had been fastened with her father's aid.
Again she seated herself on the ground beside him, but now his face was turned from her. It was toward the still figure a few yards away.
"Tell me the rest now, Nan," he said. "She did her—best—to—save me."
"More than her best. Say, Jeff, she loved you better than life.
That's why she's—there."