darling!"

He did not stir in answer. He lay like a figure carved in marble.
Suddenly the rays of the lamp were turned upon him, and she saw that his
face was livid. The eyes were closed and sunken. A terrible misgiving
stabbed her. Almost involuntarily she drew back.

In the same moment she felt Monck's hands upon her. He was unbuttoning
the overcoat in which she was wrapped. She stood motionless, feeling
cold, powerless, strangely dependent upon him.

As he stripped the coat back from her shoulders, he spoke, his voice
very measured and quiet, but kind also, even soothing.

"Don't give up!" he said. "We'll pull him through between us."

A queer little thrill went through her. Again she felt as if he had
imparted strength. She turned back to the bed.

Major Ralston was on the other side. Across that silent form he spoke to
her.

"See if you can get him to take this! I am afraid he's past it. But
try!"

She saw that he was holding a spoon, and she commanded herself and took
it from him. She wondered at the steadiness of her own hand as she put
it to the white, unconscious lips. They were rigidly closed, and for a
few moments she thought her task was hopeless. Then very slowly they
parted. She slipped the spoon between.