"Yes, a faint one, but—"
"Yes? 'But'?" He looked at me as though he wished it over.
"But it rests with you whether the chance is worth anything. If you are content to die, it is gone."
"I am content to die," he replied.
"And there," said I, "you are wrong and selfish. You have Ruth to live for. Besides, if you are given the chance, you commit suicide if you do not take it."
There was a long pause, and then he said: "You are right; I will live if
I can, Marmion."
"And now YOU are right." I nodded soothingly to him, and then asked him to talk no more; for I knew that fever would soon come on.
He lay for a moment silent, but at length whispered: "Did you know it was not a fall I had?" He raised his chin and stretched his throat slightly, with a kind of trembling.
"I thought it was not a fall," I replied.
"It was Phil's pal—Kilby."