“Nerve gone—almost. Going to get it back again, of course. Feel a million times better already for talking with you.”
“Do—does it really help?”
“It's the only panacea for me,” he said too quickly to consider his words.
“The only one?” she faltered. “Do you mean to say that your trouble—illness—has anything to do with—”
“No, no! I only—”
“Has it, Stephen?”
“No!”
“Because, if I thought—”
“Sylvia, I'm not that sort! You mustn't talk to me that way. There's nothing to be sorry for about me. Any man may lose his nerve, and, if he is a man, go after it and get it back again. Every man has a fighting chance. You said it yourself once—that a man mustn't ask for a fighting chance; he must take it. And I'm going to take it and win out one way or another.”
“What do you mean by 'another,' Stephen?”