Her exploring fingers told her that it was no serious wound which had creased the side of his head; if there was no other he would surely revive, and the discovery sent her blood throbbing through her veins.

She lifted his head to her lap, chafing his cold wrists frantically, her eyes staring again out across the barren snow fields, with fresh realization of their intense loneliness.
She choked back a sob of despair, and glanced down again into Hamlin's face.

He did not stir but his eyes were open, regarding her in bewilderment.
"Molly," he whispered, forgetting, "is this really you?
What has happened ?" The girl's eyes filled instantly with tears, but she did not move, except that the clasp of her hands grew stronger.
"Yes, I am Molly; please do not move yet.

You have been hurt, but it is all right now." "Hurt!" he lifted his head slightly and stared about; then dropped it again with a sigh of content.

"Oh, yes, now I know.