She rose at last and bent over my bandaged head. She scrutinised my face. As she leaned closer, I caught the fragrance of her breath and the perfume of her hair. And then,—God forgive me for my deceit! although, for such an ecstasy I would go on being deceitful to the end of time,—she stooped lower and her full, soft, warm lips touched mine.
I raised my eyelids to her blushing loveliness. I tried to smile, but she put her finger up demanding silence. She fed me again and new strength flowed through my veins.
What questions I asked her then! How did I get here? What day of the week was it? Was Joe Clark dead?
"Hush, hush!" she chided. "You must go on sleeping."
"But I can't sleep forever. Already I have been asleep for years," I complained feebly.
"Hush, then, and I will tell you."
She sat down by my bedside and I lay still and quiet as she went over what she knew.
"This is Saturday evening. I found you, lying unconscious,—dead as I thought,—out on the path, as I went for fresh water yesterday morning.
"I brought you here. I did not know what had befallen you. I was afraid you had been set upon by the thieves who tried to rob Jake Meaghan; but from what you have just said, it was Superintendent Clark who attacked you."
I nodded.