“I went to bed.”
“Did you notice the time? Was it late?”
“Not very. About twelve o’clock, I think.”
“Did you fall asleep?”
“No. I couldn’t sleep that night.”
“You were restless?”
“I was thinking of you.”
The answer almost unmanned me. Something in the tone, even more than in the words, went straight to my heart. It was only after pausing a little first that I was able to go on.
“Had you any light in your room?” I asked.
“None—until I got up again, and lit my candle.”