In a minute or two the whole affair proves itself a very small thing indeed, with little that can be termed tragical about it. Geoffrey comes slowly back to life, and in the coming breathes her name. Once again he is trying to reach the distant fern; once again it eludes his grasp. He has it; no, he hasn't; yet, he has. Then at last he wakes to the fact that he has indeed got it in earnest, and that the blood is flowing from a slight wound in the back of his head, which is being staunched by tender fingers, and that he himself is lying in Mona's arms.,
"Insolence, sir, is perhaps another part of your role," returns she, with cold but excessive anger.,
In ignorance of the fact that Geoffrey has been hurt in the fray, she lays her hand upon the injured arm. Instinctively he shrinks from the touch..
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