She drank in his words with an eagerness that tortured his conscience sorely, but a quick, joyful light dawned on her face as his reward, and she sank back on the pillows again with a little weary, gratified sigh of relief. The strain had been too much for her, however, and she began to choke pitifully, as a fresh gush of blood bubbled up from her lips and stained her white breast. He slipped an arm under her head and, tenderly as a woman might have done, he soothed and ministered to her paroxysm.
For some few minutes she lay in a sort of stupor, and he watched her anxiously, undecided whether or not to awaken Musgrave; but presently she revived a little and her breathing became easier. The flow of blood from her mouth had abated and, as she looked up and saw him supporting her, the pale lips relaxed into a faint semblance of their old roguish smile; when her face and bosom had been gently sponged, and she had drunk a glass of water, she spoke--almost in a whisper, but quite calmly and clearly:
The unutterable pathos of her pitiful little jest nearly broke him down then but, with a struggle, he raised his eyes and, with a twisted mouth, smiled valiantly back at her.
"What did--that--doctor--say?" she asked slowly. "Does he--think--I'll--die? I feel so--very--weak--and--tired ... and my--chest--hurts me--terrible.... I think I--must be--dying.... Am I?... Look--at me--Policeman!... tell me.... Did he--say--I'm not--afraid...."
"Elsie, girl," he said unsteadily. "Elsie, you're--" He stopped and, choking a little, reached out a slightly shaking hand to smooth back the dark curly hair from her white forehead. "You're going home, girl--you're going home!"
She gazed at him searchingly for a few seconds, then turned her head away listlessly, with a sharp intake of her breath. There was a long silence which was broken by Ellis.
"Elsie Baxter _is_ your name, all right, isn't it?" he asked gently.
She nodded, watching his face closely meanwhile.
"What part of the States do you come from, my girl?" he continued. "Where are your parents--if you have any--or your friends?"
But his inquiries failed to elicit any response, and all he got was the same passive look of mute entreaty which she had exhibited to all his queries on the occasion of their first meeting.