‘Why?’ she said, stroking his hand from wrist to fingertips with one soft finger. ‘You mustn’t be miserable. You and me have never done such a thing before; have we? Was it that wretched old Flu?’ It was too dark in the little fragrant room even to see her face so close to his own. And yet he feared. ‘Dr Simon,’ she went on softly, ‘said it was. But isn’t your voice a little hoarse, and it sounds so melancholy in the dark. And oh’—she squeezed his wrist—‘you have grown so thin! You do frighten me. Whatever should I do if you were really ill? And it was so odd, dear. When first I woke I seemed to be still straining my eyes in a dream, at such a curious, haunting face—not very nice. I am glad, I am glad you were here.’ ‘What was the dream-face like?’ came the muttered question. ‘Dark and sharp, and rather dwelling eyes; you know those long faces one sees in dreams: like a hawk, like a conjuror’s.’ Like a conjuror’s!—it was the first unguarded and ungarbled criticism. ‘Perhaps, dear, if you find my voice different, and my hand shrunk up, you will find my face changed, too—like a conjuror’s.... What then?’ She laughed gaily and tenderly. ‘You silly silly; I should love you more than ever. Your hands are icy cold. I can’t warm them nohow.’ Lawford held tight his daughter’s hand. ‘You do love me, Alice? You would not turn against me, whatever happened? Ah, you shall see, you shall see.’ A sudden burning hope sprang up in him. Surely when all was well again, these last few hours would not have been spent in vain. Like the shadow of death they had been, against whose darkness the green familiar earth seems beautiful as the plains of paradise. Had he but realized before how much he loved her—what years of life had been wasted in leaving it all unsaid! He came back from his reverie to find his hand wet with her tears. He stroked her hair, and touched gently her eyelids without speaking. ‘You will let me come in to-morrow?’ she pleaded; ‘you won’t keep me out?’ ‘Ah, but, dear, you must remember your mother. She gets so anxious, and every word the doctor says is law. How would you like me to come again like this, perhaps?—like Santa Claus?’ ‘You know how I love having you,’ she said, and stopped. ‘But—but...’ He leaned closer. ‘Yes, yes, come,’ she said, clutching his hand and hiding her eyes; ‘it is only my dream—that horrible, dwelling face in the dream; it frightened me so.’ Lawford rose very slowly from his knees. He could feel in the dark his brows drawn down; there came a low, sullen beating on his ear; he saw his face as it were in dim outline against the dark. Rage and rebellion surged up in him; even his love could be turned to bitterness. Well, two could play at any game! Alice sprang up in bed and caught his sleeve. ‘Dearest, dearest, you must not be angry with me now!’ He flung himself down beside the bed. Anger, resentment died away. ‘You are all I have left,’ he said.