"Oh, anywhere." She considered a moment. "You'll be ill if you stop here. You ought to go ever so far away. A sea-voyage would be the very thing."
"It wouldn't do me much good to go sea-voyaging by myself."
For a second her face brightened. "No—but—I shall be quite strong in another fortnight—and then—I could go out to you wherever you were, and we could come back together, couldn't we?"
There was no answer.
"You might go—to please me."
He laughed shortly. "I might go to please myself. But what's the good of talking about it when you know I can't."
"Well, if you'd rather wait, there's the Riviera"—he colored violently—"would that do for you?"
"Yes; I think it would 'do' for me—just about."
"Well—anywhere then. If I'm well enough to go to the Riviera, I'm—"
"You're not well enough to go to the Riviera."