“I went for help,” she said, in so low a tone it seemed hardly spoken.

“First you did something you have not told me.”

She waited in a sweet shame he recognized and gloried in, but he wanted the confession from her lips.

“And then?”

“You said you would teach me to say things without words,” she said tremulously.

“Not now. Later. Put everything you did in words. And then — ”

“I thought you were dying.” She drew in a long, sighing breath.

“And you kissed me. I have a right to know, for I missed them all — ”