"Well, I have had a cup of coffee," she replied, coloring a little.
"What a brute I am!" he groaned.
"In that charge upon yourself you strongly assert the possession of an animal nature, and therefore of course the need of a breakfast."
"May I be choked by the first mouthful if I touch anything before I know you have had your own."
"What an awful abjuration! How can you swear so before a lady, Mr.
Gregory?"
"No, it is a solemn vow."
"Then I must take my breakfast with you, for with your disposition to doubt I don't see how you can 'know' anything about it otherwise."
"That is better than I hoped. I will eat anything you bring on those conditions, if it does choke me—and I know it will."
"A fine compliment to my cooking," she retorted and laughingly left the room.
Gregory could not believe himself the haggard wretch that Mr. Walton had found two hours since. Then he was ready to welcome death as a deliverer. Insane man! As if death ever delivered any from evil but the good! But so potent had been the sweet wine of Annie's ministry that his chilled and benumbed heart was beginning to glow with a faint warmth of hope and comfort. Morbidness could no more exist in her presence than shadows on the sunny side of trees. With her full knowledge of the immediate cause of his suffering, and with her unusual tact, she had applied balm to body and spirit at the same time. The sharp, cutting agony in his head had been charmed away. The paroxysm had passed, and the dull ache that remained seemed nothing in comparison—merely the heavy swell of the departed storm.