"I shall rest to-night," he said. "Because I've come to a resolution. If I hadn't, if—if I followed my first thought, my first decision, I know I should not be able to rest. I know I shouldn't."
She stared at him in silence.
"Ruby," he said, "you remember our first evening here?"
"Yes," she forced herself to say.
Would he never end? Would he never let go of her hand? never let her get away to the Nile, to that barbarous music?
"I think we were getting close to each other then. But—but I think we are much closer now. Don't you?"
"Yes," she managed to say.
"Closer because I've proved you; I've proved you through all this dreadful illness."
His hand gripped hers more firmly.
"But you, perhaps, haven't proved me yet as I have proved you."