I made no responsive movement, and she looked at me from beneath her half-closed lids.
"You are not looking well yourself, John. Have you had a bad night?"
"A most horrible night."
"I am so sorry, dear. Watching by my side for so many hours has tired you."
"I have not been watching by your side."
"You bad boy—what could you have been doing; and why do you speak to me so unfeelingly? I am sure I have done nothing to deserve it. Oh, my poor head! You did not know I was accustomed to these headaches."
"No, I did not know."
"I ought to have told you, dear."
"Yes, you ought to have told me. It would have been better for both of us."
"I don't see that; unless you have deceived me, it could have made no difference in your feelings, and I believed every word you said—yes, I did, John, dear." She shuddered and moaned, as though seized with an ague. "Get me something, or I shall go mad with pain!"