She waited and she prayed shamelessly for herself--for one more
chance--as Miss Sarah had said women always prayed. But he was looking
at her, when she opened her eyes after a long and incoherent appeal; at
her first word he tried to rise and she had trouble in persuading him
to lie back again. She heard herself scolding, while she rearranged
the bandages so that they would cover both wounds, and he listened,
hot-eyed, without recognizing her. Yet when she bade him wait, until
she could bring the team, he nodded his comprehension; he was watching
for her return. And he came to his feet with a readiness that made her
heart leap with hope; but he fell twice before she lifted him, half
with her hands, half with her voice, to the seat.
She crawled in beside him, and the next moment she had to struggle
madly to prevent his returning to Big Louie.
"He will wait quiet until we come for him," she protested. "There
isn't room for Big Louie--and he won't mind----"
Her logic made an impression upon him, for he smiled. There was no
sequence in his acquiescence, however.
"I have always been afraid for him," he told her in reply, as
studiously grave as though he had been conscious of what he was saying.
"The others--they can take care of themselves. They are wrong ones
together. But Big Louie is only a child--but he won't mind--he'll
understand----"
She thought then that he had recognized her; she dared to hope that his
brain was clearing.
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