He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free. An admirable alternative presented itself and she sighed, spreading her hands. “I think that you are very dense. Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you. Many’s the bullets I’ve dug out of fellows in my time. "I release you from your promise. . 'He's a good fellow, and 'twill all end well'.
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