He saw that she was disturbed. He was kind, a big stout man, smiling. Her throat closed.
"Take a real rest," she ordered in a short, thick, over-casual voice. Their hands dropped apart.
"I'll probably be forced to in spite of myself."
"Well, I'm glad of it." She turned quickly and went toward the door. He followed her and stumbled a little. She tried not to look back at him.
"This has been awfully good of you," he said after her in his slow, kind way.
She could not bear his slow kindness. She did not answer.
"Can't I get a taxicab for you?"
"Couldn't. Feel uncomfortable with such luxuries. You go to bed and rest."
She glanced back once. He stood, huge in his fatigue, with his drooped, gentle mouth, in an attitude as if he did not know what to do with his hands.
"Good-bye."