"We are going back to the villa?"
"Yes."
"I'm glad," Nigel said, slowly. "I never told her, but I was beginning to hate this boat; all this trouble has come upon me here. Sometimes—sometimes I have felt almost as if—"
He broke off.
"Yes?" Isaacson said, quietly.
"As if there were something that was fatal to me on board the Loulia."
"In the villa I shall get you back to your original health and strength."
The thin, lead-coloured face drooped forward, and the eyes that were full of a horrible malaise held for a moment the fires of hope.
"Do you really think I can ever get well?"
Isaacson did not reply for a moment. Then he said, "Will you make me a promise?"