She touched his lips with her hand, and shaded her eyes with that same hand as she went back to her work and her little low song. He heard the song with evident pleasure, until she allowed it gradually to sink away into silence.

“Mortimer.”

“My dear Eugene.”

“If you can give me anything to keep me here for only a few minutes⁠—”

“To keep you here, Eugene?”

“To prevent my wandering away I don’t know where⁠—for I begin to be sensible that I have just come back, and that I shall lose myself again⁠—do so, dear boy!”

Mortimer gave him such stimulants as could be given him with safety (they were always at hand, ready), and bending over him once more, was about to caution him, when he said: