"I think I do."
"Then try to go asleep."
"Kiss me, Theo."
Theodore complied readily. Jack put his arms around Theodore's neck, and pressed his hot, feverish lips to the other's cool, firm cheek.
"Won't you sing to me, like mother does, before you go?" Jack whispered.
"I don't think I can."
"Oh, yes! Sing 'At even, ere the sun was set;—you know that."
And very sweetly, in his clear treble, Theodore sang the hymn correctly through to the end.
"The last verse again, please, Theo," Jack murmured, sleepily.
"All right, old fellow:—