"Me?"
"Yes; I was afraid you might be ill again—"
"Probably you mean you wanted to work upon me again. Well, I am not afraid of you."
"What do you mean?"
"You need not get angry; it was you, and you alone, that almost killed baby and me."
"Clarissa, you do not know what you are saying. I make you sick!—Never. It was I who cured you."
"William, let us not get angry with each other, but try to find out the truth. Were you or were you not thinking of me when I was stricken yesterday?"
"I was."
"I knew it. I told you you made me ill."
"I deny it. I was thinking of anything but your being ill. I swear my only thought was you should send for me to come to you. I wanted to be with you. I was lonesome and desperate at the thought you would leave me again. I never thought of the baby. I am as blameless of the cause of her sickness as you."