“Of course. I don’t want to rush away, Phil, but there’s the tyrannical nurse to think of. What is it, old chap?” He walked back to the chair. Phillip was bunching up the rug over his knees with nervous fingers.
“John,” he began in a low voice.
“Hold on now, Phil,” the other broke in. “If you say one word about—that—I’ll get out of here so quick you won’t see me go; and I won’t come back, either.”
“But I must,” insisted Phillip. “You’ve got to say—you’ve got to forgive——”
“Chuck it, Phil! Listen to me a minute. I made a mistake—unintentional, Phil—and you didn’t like it. I’m sorry, and you’ve pardoned it—or you’re going to. It’s all over with and it’s all right, old chap; it’s all right!”
Phillip shook his head.
“It isn’t,” he muttered. “There’s—that night when I met you in the hall——”
“And we both lost our tempers. I remember. Well, we’ve found them again. Now let’s forget about it, Phil. You get well and come back and we’ll begin over again. I’ll see if I can’t be a better guardian. Good-by again, old man.”
“Well——”
“Yes, it’s all right.”