‘But you look so ill—you are shaking so. Is it a cold you have had long?’
‘Oh, my old habit; you remember. One cold after another, all through the accursed winter. What does that matter when you speak kindly to me once more? I had rather die now at your feet and see the old gentleness when you look at me, than live on estranged from you. No, don’t kiss me, I believe these vile sore-throats are contagious.’
‘But your lips are so hot and parched! And to think of your coming this journey, on such a night!’
‘Good old Biffen came to the station with me. He was angry because I had kept away from you so long. Have you given me your heart again, Amy?’
‘Oh, it has all been a wretched mistake! But we were so poor. Now all that is over; if only Willie can be saved to me! I am so anxious for the doctor’s coming; the poor little child can hardly draw a breath. How cruel it is that such suffering should come upon a little creature who has never done or thought ill!’
‘You are not the first, dearest, who has revolted against nature’s cruelty.’
‘Let us go up at once, Edwin. Leave your coat and things here. Mrs Winter—Edith’s mother—is a very old lady; she has gone to bed. And I dare say you wouldn’t care to see Mrs Carter to-night?’
‘No, no! only you and Willie.’
‘When the doctor comes hadn’t you better ask his advice for yourself?’
‘We shall see. Don’t trouble about me.’