"Alarm myself," she repeated, ready to be alarmed at the suggestion. "I—don't think, I hope I am not alarmed. Why should I be?" she said, anxiously.
The jealousy grew more pronounced.
"There is no reason whatever," he said, shortly. "The boy is all right. He has been getting his feet wet and caught cold, that is all."
Stella smiled.
"Yes, that is all," she said, "of course. But it is strange Dr. Hamilton doesn't get rid of it for him."
"Perhaps he doesn't help the doctor," he retorted. "Boys always are careless about themselves. But don't let Frank absorb all the conversation," he said. "Let us talk of ourselves," and he kissed her hand again.
"Yes," said Stella, obediently.
He kept her hand in his and pressed it.
"I have come to speak to you to-night, Stella, about ourselves, darling. I want you to be very good to me!"
She looked forward at the lighted room with the same set expression, waiting patiently, obediently, for him to proceed. There was no response in her touch or in her face. He noticed it—he never failed to notice it, and it maddened him. He set his teeth hard.