She hesitated, and then sat down beside him. He thought that she had been going to ask him something and then checked herself. "I can't let you talk," she said, and in her voice he heard the new authority; an authority gained by long submission to discipline.
"Another night, then. We must talk another night," he murmured, closing his eyes, for he knew that he must not disobey her. All the same it was absurd that Adrienne Toner should be doing this for him; absurd but heavenly to feel her hand fall softly, like a warm, light bird, and brood upon his forehead.
They never spoke of Coldbrooks, nor of Barney, nor of Palgrave; not once. Not once during all those nights that she sat beside him and made him sleep.
He had heard from Coldbrooks, of course; letters came often now. And the dark young nurse had written for him since he could not yet write for himself. He had said no word of seeing Adrienne. Nor had he let them know how near to death he had been and, perhaps, still was. He would have liked to have seen Lydia and Nancy if he were to die; but most of all he wanted to be sure of not losing Adrienne. And he knew that were he to tell them, were they to come, Adrienne would go.
She never spoke to him at all, he remembered--as getting stronger with every day, he pieced his memories of these nights together--unless he spoke to her; and she never smiled. And it came upon him one morning after he had read letters that brought so near the world from which she was now shut out, that she had, perhaps, never forgiven him. After all, though he could not see that he had been wrong, she had everything to forgive him and the thought made him restless. That night, for the first time, she volunteered a remark. His temperature had gone up a little. He must be very quiet and go to sleep directly.
"Yes; I know," he said. "It's because of you. Things I want to say. I'm really so much better. We can't go on like this, can we," he said, looking up at her as she sat beside him. "Why, you might slip out of my life any day, and I might never hear of you again."
She sat looking down at him, a little askance, though gentle still, if gentle was the word for her changed face. "That's what I mean to do," she said.