After a moment he opened them, and said, looking at Justine: "You have helped to nurse me, have you not ?" His wasted fingers moved over the counterpane towards her.
"I could do so little," she murmured.
"You have more than paid your debt to me," he gently replied.

"For I live, you see, and poor Hector died." She shook her head gravely, and rejoined: "Ah no, I can never pay the debt I owe to you and to God--now." He did not understand this, I know.
But I did.

"You must not talk any more," I said to him.
But Justine interposed.

"He must be told that the nurse who has done most for him is Mrs.Falchion." His brows contracted as if he were trying to remember something.

He moved his head wearily.
"Yes, I think I remember," he said, "about her being with me, but nothing clearly--nothing clearly.