Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. “What were you trying to do?” Lucy asked. Her heart's in the right place, at all events; and, since that's the case, the rest may perhaps come round, —that is, if she gets through her present illness. You were very good. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind. Little more’n a week. ’ ‘You certain? She’s a thought too volatile for my money. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly.
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