His eyes had a burning brightness, and though they met her own, she perceived that he did not recognize her.
"Oh, my Giles," she cried, "what have I done to you!" But she stopped no longer even to reproach herself.

She saw that the first thing to be thought of was to get him indoors.
How Grace performed that labor she never could have exactly explained.
But by dint of clasping her arms round him, rearing him into a sitting posture, and straining her strength to the uttermost, she put him on one of the hurdles that was loose alongside, and taking the end of it in both her hands, dragged him along the path to the entrance of the hut, and, after a pause for breath, in at the door-way.
It was somewhat singular that Giles in his semi-conscious state acquiesced unresistingly in all that she did.

But he never for a moment recognized her--continuing his rapid conversation to himself, and seeming to look upon her as some angel, or other supernatural creature of the visionary world in which he was mentally living.

The undertaking occupied her more than ten minutes; but by that time, to her great thankfulness, he was in the inner room, lying on the bed, his damp outer clothing removed.
Then the unhappy Grace regarded him by the light of the candle.

There was something in his look which agonized her, in the rush of his thoughts, accelerating their speed from minute to minute.