The hair upon his face and head was damp and matted; his face was sunken, weather-browned, but bloodless in the colouring.

His body seemed struggling for breath without aid from his will, for she saw he was thinking only of her.

His intense preoccupation in her half fascinated, half discomforted her, the more so because of the feverish lustre of his eye.
"I'm sorry you're so ill, Mr.Bates," she said, coldly; "you'd better lie down." "Never mind about me," he whispered, eagerly, and feebly moved upon the seat to get a little nearer her.

"Never mind about me; but tell me, Sissy, have you been a good girl since you got off like this?
You're safe and well--have you been good ?" "I took your aunt's money, if you mean that, but I left you my half of things for it; and anyway, it was you who made me do it." "Yes, yes," he assented, "'twas my doing; the sin of all you did then lies at my door.

But since then, Sissy ?" His look, his whole attitude, were an eager question, but she looked at him scornfully.
"Of _course_ I've been good.