Suddenly his lips moved, and Sister, kneeling down on the floor,
bent over him.

I could not hear what he said, but I think she did. I saw her lips
frame the whisper "Yes" in reply, and over her face there swept
suddenly a look of great tenderness.

After a little pause she rose and came to me.

"Who is he?" she asked.

"Fitz-Warrener of the Naval Brigade. Do you know him?"

"No, I never heard of him. Of course--it is quite hopeless?"

"Quite."

She returned to her position by the bedside, with one arm laid
across his chest.

Presently he began whispering again, and at intervals she answered
him. It suddenly occurred to me that, in his unconsciousness, he
was mistaking her for some one else, and that she, for some woman's
reason, was deceiving him purposely.

In a few moments I was sure of this.

I tried not to look; but I saw it all. I saw his poor blind hands
wander over her throat and face, up to her hair.