Then there shone from her eyes a glad, sweet welcome to the angel that had issued.
His arms seemed to sicken, falling limply from her.

She arose without speaking, and busied herself a little apart, her back to him.
He sat up on the couch, looking about the little room curiously, as one recovering consciousness in strange surroundings.

Then he began slowly to pull on the wet boots that she had placed near the fire.
When he stood up, put on his coat, and reached for his hat, she came up to him, hesitating, timid.
"You are so cold! If you would only stay here--I am afraid you will be sick." He answered very gently: "It is better to go.

I am strong again, now." "I would--I would not be near you--and I am afraid for you to go out again in the cold." He smiled a little.

"_Nothing_ can hurt me now--I am strong." He opened the door, breathing his fill of the icy air that rushed in.