"No, I do not. He has evil eyes."
"Dave is not as bad as you think. He is a weak creature, with little brains, and no sense at all. But the rest are not a bad lot, though rather rough at times, especially when they are drinking. But let us forget all about them for the present. Read some to me. Let it be Timon again. I feel in a mood for him to-day. If you knew Latin, I would have you read about Old Aeneas. I like Virgil's full sounding sentences, 'Arma virumque cano.' There's nothing like them."
"Yes, there is," Jean quietly replied, as she rose to her feet, crossed the room, and took down a book from a small shelf on the wall. This she opened as soon as she had taken her seat before the fire, and turned over several pages.
"Here is something better than Virgil," she said, "and I am going to read from it now. It will do both of us much good."
"Is that the Bible, Miss?"
"It is, and from all appearances you have not read much from it of late. It is very dusty."
"That's true, and I don't want to hear it now. I don't like it."
"Neither do we like medicine, Mr. Timon. But when we are sick we take it whether we like it or not. It is for our good."
"So you think I am sick?"
"There is something wrong with you, I am sure, more serious than your injured side. This is the only thing, I believe, that will help you."