All I wanted you to do was to have her meet me here.

Thank you, dear friend, for coming." She had not let go his hand, clinging to him as a timid woman in crossing a narrow bridge spanning an abyss clings to the strong arm of a man.
He helped her to the dock as tenderly as if she had been a child; asking her if the voyage had been a rough one, whether she had been ill in her berth, and whether she had taken care of the baby herself, and why she had brought no nurse with her.

She saw his meaning, but she did not explain her weakness or offer any explanation of the cause of her appearance or of the absence of a nurse.

In a moment she changed the subject, asking after his mother and his own work, and seemed interested in what he told her about the neighbors.
When the joy of hearing her voice and of looking into her dear face once more had passed, his skilled eyes probed the deeper.

He noted with a sinking at the heart the dark circles under the drooping lids, the drawn, pallid skin and telltale furrows that had cut their way deep into her cheeks.