"I told you I wouldn't let you go,—dear," he declared triumphantly, and his laugh changed to a low, choked groan as she would have taken his arm to help him; for he was walking unsteadily.
"Don't touch that one," he begged. "It's a bit sore; I came down on it when I jumped."
"Do you think it's broken?" she whispered, and her eyes grew dim as she thought of all he had suffered through her. She had stopped. There were lights coming down the tunnel, and hurrying feet, on the further side of the drowning-hole.
He slipped his sound arm about her. "There's nothing broken that can't be mended now," he murmured contentedly. "Unless you're really determined to break my heart."