"It--it's so dreadful all alone." "Try to sleep, dear," he said gently.
"Yes, but I dream, I dream," she whispered piteously.
He laid her very tenderly back on the pillow, and sat down beside her.
"You won't dream while I am here," he said.
She clasped his hand closely in both her own and begged him tremulously to kiss her.

By the dim light of her night-lamp she could scarcely see his face; but as her lips met his a great peace stole over her.

She felt as if he had stretched out his hands to her across the great, dividing gulf that had opened between them and drawn her to his side.
About a quarter of an hour later Eustace Tudor rose noiselessly and stood looking down at his young wife's sleeping face.

It was placid as an infant's, and her breathing was soft and regular.

He knew that, undisturbed, she would sleep so for hours.
And so he did not dare to kiss her.