"You were. And you would be still, if these Powells hadn't found you out."
He meditated.
"What do you suppose they've come for?" he asked.
"They've come, I imagine, for his health."
"What? To a god-forsaken place like this?"
"They know what it's done for me. So they think, poor darlings, perhaps it may do something—even yet—for him."
"What's the matter with him?"
"Something dreadful. And they say—incurable."
"It isn't——?" He paused.
"I can't tell you what it is. It isn't anything you'd think it was. It isn't anything bodily."