“And you nursed me!” he repeated again. “How did you learn such science?”
“My lord, I have loved and cared for the dumb things all my life. There was the calf that was staked——” She stopped; that laugh was torture.
“Go on, Pomona!”
“I bathed your wound in cold water over and over till the bleeding stopped, and then, when the fever came, I knew what brew of herbs would help you. One night I thought that you would die——”
“Go on, Pomona!”
“You could not breathe, no matter how high I laid you on the pillows——”
“Ay! Why dost thou halt again? What didst thou then?”
“I held you in my arms,” she said. “You seemed to get your breath better that way, and then you slept at last.”
“While you held me?” he proceeded. “How long did you hold me in your arms, Pomona?”
“My lord,” she said, “the whole night.”