While the mention of David's personal danger left her sick for a moment, she saw the wider peril also to the work he had set out to do.
What was the thing without the man?
It could not exist--it had no meaning.

Where was he now?
What had been the end of the battle?
He had saved others, had he saved himself?
The most charmed life must be pierced by the shaft of doom sooner or later; but he was little more than a youth yet, he had only just begun! "And the Saadat looks as though he was ready for his grave--but keeps going, going, going!" The words kept ringing in her ears.

Again: "And he sits there like a ghost all shrivelled up for want of sleep, and his eyes like a lime-kiln burning....

He hasn't had sleep for a fortnight....

He's killing himself for others." Her own eyes were shining with a dry, hot light, her lips were quivering, but her hands upon the letter were steady and firm.