He looked at her. The lips he had kissed were a purplish white in her thin bloodless face. "I say, are you ill?"
She saw her advantage and took it.
"No. But I can't stand things very well. They make me ill. That's what
I meant when I asked you to be careful."
Her helplessness stilled his passion as it had roused it. He released her suddenly.
He took the thin arm surrendered to his gentleness, turned back her sleeve and felt the tense jerking pulse.
He saw what she had meant.
* * * * *
"Do you mind my sitting beside you if I keep quiet?"
She shook her head.
"Can you stand my talking about it?"