“Yes—yes!” and Josiah wrung his hands imploringly; “Take me away at once——!”
“But you’re ill!” said the Goblin—“You’re very ill!”
“I’m not!”
“You ARE! You’ve got a cancer!”
“I haven’t!”
“You HAVE! It’s called Selfishness! It is eating your life away,—poisoning your blood—rotting your Soul!”
“I’ll get rid of it!—I’ll—I’ll cut it out myself!”—and in his excitement McNason caught hold of the Goblin’s claw and pressed it fervently—“I will—I will! Only take me out of this! Give me a chance!”
“You’re feverish too!” continued the Goblin, severely. “Your temperature has gone up to the very highest point of Fraudulent Philanthropy!”
“I know—I know!—but it will be all right!—only let me get home, and you shall see—you shall see——!”
Here his voice ebbed away into a kind of choked sob.