He grasped at the breath that seemed trying to elude him.
"You went out into the woods alone," he said, pityingly.

He was so accustomed to give her pity for this that it came easily.

"You--you mean over our hills to the back of the--" "No, I don't, I wasn't such a silly as to go and die in the hills.

I got across the lake, and I'm here now--that's the main thing, and I want to know why you're here, and what you're going to do." Her tone was brutal.

It was, though he could not know it, the half hysterical reaction from that mysterious burst of feeling that had made her defend him so fiercely against the American's evil imputation.
She was not sufficiently accustomed to ill health to have a quick eye for it; but she began now to see how very ill he looked.