'"You're not by any chance asking for my permission, are you, Sam?"
'"Yes, I am, sir."
'"Well, you have it," I replied, laughing. "I won't forbid the banns, and good luck, Sam, you always were a funny ass."
'"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," he said—you know his funny way, Meg, ah—it's coming—on again——'
And then a bout of pain, and although I loved him so there was nothing I could do but watch and wipe the pouring sweat and pray for God to take him. When it passed I offered him some brandy, but he said,—
'No, keep it for the bad turns.'
Ah, God, was there worse than that?
He spoke of Michael and daddy, and his little Gidg., and sent messages to Nannie and Charlie and one or two others, and then suddenly there was nothing in the world for him again but pain, and I could only watch and wait and pray and agonise.
The sister came in with some milk and food for me, but as I shook my head she, with a glance of pity at the bed, was taking it away when Ross opened his eyes and signed for her to leave it. He let me sponge his face and hands but 'No, no brandy, just a little water.'
'Is it too hard for you, Jonathan?' he whispered as he saw that the glass trembled a little. (Too hard for me? ah, Ross, always yourself last), and, choking back the tears, I told him 'No.'