Manners did not answer.
“Can’t I get it, too?” Aladdin cried. “Have I got to be little and mean always? So help me, Manners, I don’t love any one but you and her.”
“You ‘re not fit to talk,” said Manners, with great gentleness. “You go to sleep.” He arose, and going to the door of the house, opened it a little way and looked out.
“It’s warm as toast out, Aladdin,” he called. “There’s going to be a big thaw.” He closed the door and went into the next room, and Aladdin could hear him talking to the horse. After a little he came back.
“Greener says that she never was better stalled,” he said.
“Manners,” said Aladdin, “have I been raving?”
“Not been riding quite straight,” said Manners.
“How soon are we going to start?” said Aladdin.
“We’ve got to wait till the snow’s pretty well melted,” said Manners. “About noon, I think.”
Then, because he was very tired and sick and weak, and perhaps a trifle delirious, Aladdin asked Manners if he would mind holding his hand. Manners took the hand in his, and a thrill ran up Aladdin’s arm and all over him, till it settled deliciously about his heart, and he slept.