"Won't you go and dress for dinner?" he asked, after a moment. "It's ordered for a quarter-past, and it's more than that now."
"Is it? I'll come directly. You go, and I'll follow you. I shan't be long."
He came near to where she sat.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked.
"Oh, Harry, Harry, I'm well, perfectly well! You and your doctor!" and she broke into an impatient laugh. "You'll persuade me into the grave before you've done."
He looked at her for a moment, and then, shaping his lips to whistle, sounded a few dreary notes and stole out of the room.
She heard the door close, and, sitting up, stretched her arms over her head. Then she sighed for relief at his going. It was much to be alone.