She lay quiet, her head against my shoulder.

Her hat had fallen off and a wet, fragrant strand of her hair brushed my cheek.

Once I stopped and bent my head to listen, to make sure that she was breathing.

She was, I felt her breath upon my face.

Afterwards I remembered all this; just then I was merely thankful that she was alive.
I had gone but a little way further when she stirred in my arms and spoke.
"What is it ?" she asked.