The eyes were closed and sunken.

A terrible misgiving stabbed her.

Almost involuntarily she drew back.
In the same moment she felt Monck's hands upon her.

He was unbuttoning the overcoat in which she was wrapped.

She stood motionless, feeling cold, powerless, strangely dependent upon him.
As he stripped the coat back from her shoulders, he spoke, his voice very measured and quiet, but kind also, even soothing.
"Don't give up!" he said.