When again he stirred and woke she was still
at his side, kneeling upon the hard rock floor beside him. . . . She
had had Patten help her to lift him down from the table before she
despatched Patten with the note for John Engle. Again she pleaded with
him to lie still and just trust to her.
He was very still. She knew that he was trying to piece together his
fragmentary thoughts and impressions, seeking to bridge over from last
night to to-day. So she talked softly with him, soothing him alike
with the tenderness of her voice and the pressure and gentle stroke of
her hand upon his hand and arm. He had had an accident but was going
to be all right from now on. But he must not be moved for a little.
Therefore Engle would come soon, and perhaps Mrs. Engle with him. And
a wagon bringing a real bed and fresh clean sheets and all of those
articles which she had listed. It would not be very long now until
Engle came.
But at last when she paused his hand shut down upon hers and he asked
quietly:
"I didn't dream it all, did I, Virginia? It is hard to know just what
I did and what I dreamed I did. But it seems more than a dream. . . .
Was it I who robbed Kemble of the Quigley mines?"
"Yes," she told him lightly, as though it were a matter of small
moment.
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