'I felt awfully languid,' he replied, after a few seconds' silence, 'but nothing more.'
He lifted himself up in the bed, and I could not help noticing that his face looked younger, and that his skin was almost natural. The old, parched look had largely passed away; it might have been as though a new and rejuvenating force had entered his system.
'Springfield and I are in for a big battle.'
I wondered whether he knew anything of my suspicions, and whether by some means or another the thoughts which haunted not only my mind, but that of Colonel McClure, had somehow reached his.
'Springfield means to have her, but I am not going to let him.'
'You are thinking about Miss Bolivick,' I said.
'Who else?' And his face flushed as he spoke. 'When I saw her first, I was hopeless, but now——'
'Yes, now,' I repeated, as I saw him hesitate, 'what now?'
For the moment I had forgotten all about his illness. I did not realize that I might be doing wrong by allowing him to excite himself.
'Buller is not the danger,' he cried; 'he is but a puppet in Springfield's hands. There's something between that man and me which I can't explain; but there's going to be a battle royal between us. He means to marry Lorna Bolivick. In his own way he has fallen in love with her. But he shall never have her.'