At last she gave a little sigh and moved her head, nestling herself to
him, but it was long before she spoke. He felt the consciousness
coming back in her, and the inclination to move, rather than any real
motion in her delicate frame; the more perceptible breathing, and then
the little sigh came again, and at last the words.
"I thought we were dead," she said, so low that he could barely hear.
"No, you fainted," he answered. "We are safe. I have got the bar
through the wall."
She turned up her face feebly, without lifting her head.
"Really? Have you done it?"
"Yes. In another hour, or a little more, the hole will be wide enough
for us to get through it."
She hid her face again, and breathed quietly.
"You do not seem glad," he said.
"It seemed so easy to die like this," she answered.
But presently she moved in his arms, and looked up again, and smiled,
though she did not try to speak again. He himself, almost worn out by
what he had done, was glad to sit still for a while. His blood was not
racing through him now, his head was not on fire. It seemed quite
natural that he should be sitting there, holding her close to him and
warming her back to life with his own warmth.
It was a strange sensation, he thought afterwards, when many other
things had happened which were not long in following upon the events
of that night.
Pages:
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253