"I shall always serve you now. My will is not broken. It is blent with yours. I am proud and glad—for yours was greater than mine. It should be so. But I should have seen it before—"
He was wondering what he would say; at times afraid lest it break some words of hers; at times unable to think of words.
"Don't try to speak," she whispered.
The old wonder of her understanding recurred to him. It would always be so.... Two or three times the thought came, almost the words, to ask her not to lose her rest; that he would do very well now—replenished as he was, and absolutely comfortable. She left him presently to bring another sup of the hot liquid hastily prepared; and then it was as if he had spoken, though he could not remember. Her answer remained in mind:
"You would not deny me the joy of helping you back to strength—you who have given me so much—"
... Once he opened his eyes and knew by the candle that he had slept.
"I think I must have been looking at you and woke you up," she whispered. "I won't look at you that way again. Wait—"
She brought something different, hot and in a cup.
... Then long after he heard her say "Yes?" questioningly, and opened his eyes.
Her head bent toward him. "Were you dreaming?" she asked.... "I answered because you said, 'Anna Erivan, Anna Erivan.'"