"Perhaps so," she said, fretfully.
He was waiting. Henceforth life would be but one long waiting just for revenge, then to be free from the dull pressure of this existence.
"How white you are!" Elsie said suddenly. "I don't believe you have slept at all."
It was true. For nights Mellen had not closed his eyes, but he felt no approach towards drowsiness even now.
"You will fall sick!" cried Elsie. "What shall I do then?"
"Don't be afraid; I am well and strong."
He said the words with a loathing bitterness of his own ability to endure.
The more powerful his physical organization, the more years of loneliness and pain would be left for him to bear. His mind flew on to the future; he pictured the long, long course towards old age; the dreary lapse of time which would bring only a cold exterior over his sufferings, like a crust of lava hardening above the volcanic fires beneath.
"Don't sit so, looking at nothing," cried Elsie.
"Yes, dear. There, do you think you can go to sleep?"