"Just a moment more, Miss Sherwood," the doctor whispered, overhearing the request "Help me a moment here," he said aloud, "and then you may retire."
She came towards the bed, and complied with his directions, knowing full well that Hugh's eyes were devouring her face.
"Is it you, Dexie, or your spirit?" the words were low and tremulous, but, in the stillness of the room, sounded clear and distinct.
"It is I, Mr. McNeil, alive, and well as ever I was."
"Thank God!"
His eyes closed, and with a gesture the doctor dismissed her; then taking his seat beside the bed, he watched until he was assured that Hugh had fallen into a natural sleep.
As Dexie left the room, she mentally said a final good-bye to it, feeling thankful enough that her services would not be needed again to hush the despairing cries or still the grasping hands that had clutched at space. It was the last time her eyes rested on Hugh for weeks. She knew he was recovering, and that was enough.
During his convalescence, Dexie never entered the Gurney household, lest by some chance she might come face to face with her enemy.
The occurrence on the boat was tacitly dropped by all parties concerned, and only when Hugh accidentally heard that the Sherwoods were preparing to return to the States did his reserve break down, and it was to Mrs. Gurney alone he expressed his regrets and intentions.