She said nothing.
"But I feel a little courage now. I never quite told you how it was with me on the Loulia. If I had stayed on her much longer, as we were, I should have died. I should have died very soon."
"No, no, Nigel."
"Yes, I should. But here"—he moved, stretched out his arms, sighed—"I feel that I shall get better, perhaps get well, even. How—how splendid if I do!"
"Well, I must go and look after things," she said.
"You're tired, aren't you?"
"No. Why should you think so?"
"Your voice sounds tired."
"It isn't that."
"What is it?"