"I'm ashamed to admit it. Between you and me—a dead secret—there's nothing really the matter with me any more. Sum Fat's a famous physician. I could run a race—only it's pleasanter to pretend I mustn't."
"Very well. Then I shan't waste any more sympathy on you."
"As a matter of fact, I can move only at the cost of excruciating agony."
She considered him with a sober face and smiling eyes. "I don't believe you. You're a fraud. Besides, I didn't come to see you at all; I came to find out why Mr. Ember dares so to neglect me. Did you deliver my invitation?"
"I did, unwillingly. He was desolated, but he couldn't accept—had to run back to town immediately after dinner."
"He's as great a fraud as you. But since he isn't here, I shall go."
She got up with a very evident intention of being as good as her word. Whitaker in despair sought wildly for an excuse to detain her.
"Please—I'm famished for human society. Have pity. Sit down. Tell me where you've been with the boat."
"Merely to the head of the bay to have the gasoline tanks filled. A most boresome errand. They've no proper facilities for taking care of motor-boats. Imagine having to sit with your hands folded while garrulous natives fill a sixty-gallon tank by hand."
"Expressions of profound sympathy. Tell me some more. See, I even consent not to talk about myself as an extra inducement—if you'll only stay."