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"I will disarm you"--had she not done it, indeed!--"and dress your
hurts Then you shall rest and I look at you at last"
"I ao on"
"Nay, you ht"
She did it, kneeling at his knees or standing before hiht of a wo, her toy--her baby,
in a word She girdled hiers busy at
neck or cheek-pieces unlaced the helrew tenderly deft over his wounds She washed
them clean, bound them up with strips torn from her skirt She pushed
back his hair from eyes and brows, and washed hie Her petticoat was her towel; she would have used her
hair, but that she dared not lose command of herself and him She
wished for once to draw hi her lap esture; "rest here, my dear heart," said the
smile that fleith it
He knelt beside her--all ell up to this The ht caht his look upon her She tried, but she could not
meet it Then it befell her that she would notfrom his breast
"Look," he said, as he held it up
She watched it quivering in the rew
blush-red, divinely ashamed