“Oh, Onias—Jason is getting better! The doctor came this morning and said he wouldn’t die. If great care is taken of him, he will live. I am so happy that I can hardly contain myself—and if it had not been for your money....”
Her eyes were now bright with tears.
“Are you in a hurry to get home?” he asked.
“No, not if you want me.”
“I should like to take you for an hour’s row. You look so tired and pale, and it will do you good. Will you come?”
“Oh yes: I should like it.”
Artemis’ experience of the world was very narrow. Until recently she had always believed that men and women were either definitely good or unmistakably evil. Onias, she supposed, was “bad,” and yet it was hard to believe that this gentle, kind-hearted fellow was even tainted by evil. She was quite sure now that she really liked him—not because of his handsome looks and his fine, strong body, but because....
It was very pleasant to be with him here on the cool sea....
At nine o’clock she returned home, her arms full of parcels.
Jason, a little feverish, was tossing on his bed. He was frowning, and he looked angry.