Trevelyan was silent.
"Answer me!"
Trevelyan shook his head piteously, and a ghastly pallor crept slowly up over his face and into the hollows of his temples and his cheeks.
"You're ill, and you didn't call me!"
"What was the good——"
Trevelyan swayed forward. When he spoke again there was an apology in his hoarse voice because he was ill.
"It's the nausea," he said simply.
XVI.
Mackenzie went in search of Clarke.
"Drop everything and come with me," he said. "It's Trevelyan—Trevelyan's got the cholera."