"I am afraid I am too ill to come," I replied.
"You do look a bit seedy," was his response, "but the air down here is ripping. It will soon set you up again."
"I am afraid I am too far gone for that," was my reply, "but if I am well enough, I shall be only too glad to come."
"Say to-morrow night," he said.
"If you will leave it an open question," was my reply, "I will say yes, but if I am too ill, you will understand the reason for my absence."
He looked at me closely.
"Is it as bad as that?"
"I am afraid it is," and I sighed when I spoke, for at that moment a wave of desire for life rolled over me.
"May I smoke?" he asked, pulling out his pipe.
"Please forgive me," I said. "I will tell Simpson to bring some cigars."