"
"Yes," she echoed, "but one remains and it is the finest of them all."
After this he went quietly to sleep and slept for twelve hours, then
took some food and slept again and, what is more, his temperature went
down to, or a little below, normal. When he finally woke up, as it
chanced, I was again present in the hut with Hope, who was standing on
the spot which she had persuaded him was occupied by the orchid. He
stared at this spot and he stared at her--me he could not see, for I
was behind him--then said in a weak voice:
"Didn't you tell me, Miss Hope, that the plant was where you are and
that the most beautiful of the flowers was left?"
I wondered what on earth her answer would be. However, she rose to the
occasion.
"O Stephen," she replied, in her soft voice and speaking in a way so
natural that it freed her words from any boldness, "it is here, for am
I not its child"--her native appellation, it will be remembered, was
"Child of the Flower." "And the fairest of the flowers is here, too,
for I am that Flower which you found in the island of the lake.
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