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Wild, Wild Heart

on the pillow held her open palm under his cheek. His lips moved:

“I love you.”

The husky whisper had in it almost a note of pain. It was as though the words had been forced from him against his will. There was the sound of a step in the passage. Ann moved away from the bedside, as Dan, the Maori cow-boy and cook, stood in the doorway.

“I’ll try to come tomorrow,” said Ann, struggling to make her voice even and unconcerned.

There was a muffled: “Thank you,” from the pillow.

Ann nodded to Dan as she passed him in the doorway, and the next moment she was gone.

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