The slow weeks passed.

Fog gave way to long rain and rain to a touch of frost and timid spring sunshine; and it was only then that Doria emerged from the Valley of the Shadow.

The first time they allowed me to visit her, I stood for a fraction of a second, almost in search of a human occupant of the room.

Lying in the bed she looked such a pitiful scrap, all hair and eyes.

She smiled and held droopingly out to me the most fragile thing in hands I have ever seen.
"I'm going to live, after all, they tell me." "Of course you are," I answered cheerily.