The invalid held up three small, freckled fingers.
Joseph dared not show pity in his gaze, but it seemed savage not to express some feeling, so after standing a moment he began to say:
"I am very sorry--"
"You needn't bother yourself!" whispered the doctor, who lay frowning upward. By and by he whispered again.
Frowenfeld bent his ear, and the little man, so merry when well, repeated, in a savage hiss:
"Sit down!"
It was some time before he again broke the silence.
"Tell you what I want--you to do--for me."
"Well, sir--"
"Hold on!" gasped the invalid, shutting his eyes with impatience,--"till I get through."