"Will you tell me," she said in a low voice, "exactly what you think of him?"
He looked at her again with some surprise.
"I am interested in the question," she went on, regulating her voice with a painful effort. "I assure you it is not from mere curiosity I ask."
"He is very low, very low indeed; but allow me to say, this is not the place for you."
"I will not do myself any harm," she answered, with a faint smile; "you shall not have any occasion to scold me."
"How long have you been here?"
"About half an hour. And you may feel my pulse if you like; it is perfectly steady."
She held out her wrist; the pulse was, in fact, quite regular, rather more so than usual, and there was nothing to show that the sick room was "not the place for her."
"Now tell me," she said; "he is dying, is not he?"