"He is not returned from
his journey, and so will not be troubled by having missed you. There will
be an hour for beauty-sleep before the sun rises," he continued with the
same wide smile with which he greeted her first. Then he lifted up the
curtain and passed out into the night.
Following him, Fleda saw that the Romanys had broken camp, and only a
small handful remained, among them the woman who had befriended her.
Fleda went up to her:
"I will never forget you," she said. "Will you wear this for me?" she
added, and she took from her throat a brooch which she had worn ever
since her first days in England, after her great illness there. The woman
accepted the brooch. "Lady love," she said, "you've lost your sleep
to-night, but that's a loss you can make good. If there's a night's sleep
owing you, you can collect the debt some time. No, a night's sleep lost
in a tent is nothing, if you're the only one in the tent. But if you're
not alone, and you lose a night's sleep, someone else may pick it up, and
you might never get it again!"
A flush slowly stole over Fleda's face, and a look of horror came into
her eyes. She read the parable aright.
"Will you let me kiss you?" she said to the woman, and now it was the
woman's turn to flush.
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