"Now that need not trouble thee," answered the man, a light breaking over his gray, drawn face. "'Fore Heaven, I mind it not."
"Thou wilt be better soon," said the girl. "I will have it so, Nick. I will not have thee die for this."
"Dost remember what I asked thee last Christmas, Deb?"
"Yes," she said, not meeting his eyes.
"Wilt kiss me now, Deb?"
For answer she stooped down and laid her lips to his, then rose and stood beside him.
"Ah! Deb," he said, looking up at her adoringly. "'Twill be something to remember—should I live—an' if not, well—'tis not every man who dies with a kiss on his lips."
"Thou must not talk," she said.
"No," he answered, faintly, "nor keep thee. Yet promise me one thing."
"What would'st have me promise?"