The Two Towers (The Lord of the Rings, #2)

by J.R.R. Tolkien

He shook his head, as if finding words useless, and murmured: ‘I love him. He’s like that, and sometimes it shines through, somehow. But I love him, whether or no.’

If we’re caught napping, Stinker will come out on top pretty quick. Not but what it would be safe for you to have a wink now, master. Safe, if you lay close to me. I’d be dearly glad to see you have a sleep. I’d keep watch over you; and anyway, if you lay near, with my arm round you, no one could come pawing you without your Sam knowing it.’

upon his white forehead lay one of Sam’s brown hands, and the other lay softly upon his master’s breast. Peace was in both their faces.

‘I think we shall get tired of that word soon,’ said Sam. ‘But never mind. I’ll wake master up.’ Gently he smoothed the hair back from Frodo’s brow, and bending down spoke softly to him. ‘Wake up, Mr. Frodo! Wake up!’

Sam left the tunnel-side and shrank towards Frodo, and their hands met and clasped, and so together they still went on.