“Not if you will sit where I can see you,” he answered, and his voice sounded to himself weak and far-away. Georgia changed her place as he wished, but she took up the book she had been reading and went on with it.
“Why won’t you speak to me, Georgie?” he asked, querulously.
“Because you are forbidden to talk until you are a little stronger.”
“I don’t care! Put down that book and sit nearer me.”
“No,” said Georgia, with decision. “You are not to excite yourself with talking. Lie still, and try to go to sleep.”
“Why do you talk to me like that? I haven’t done anything to make you angry with me, have I? Why are you so unkind?”
“I don’t want to be unkind,” returned Georgia, hastily; “but you really ought not to talk. I will answer any number of questions when you are better.”
“But why won’t you call me Dick? We didn’t quarrel, did we? I have a sort of idea—— But my head was awfully queer, and I daresay I talked a lot of rot. I can’t apologise properly until I remember more about it. But if we quarrelled, why are you here looking after me like this?”
“Simply and solely as your medical adviser.” There was the slightest possible suspicion of triumph in Georgia’s tone, the reason for which Dick did not perceive until afterwards. She returned to her book, and he lay and looked at her in a puzzled kind of way.
“I wish you would take my temperature,” he said at last.