“No, Emily, indeed you’ll do nothing of the kind, I hope,” cried Martendijk, as soon as Van Elst was beyond earshot. “You might bring back infection, and——”
“Ah! Piet, you really are rather a coward in that respect.”
“Yes; but, Emily, small-pox! Just fancy if you were to take it——”
“Well, of course; but you need not be so ready to accept it as a fact. If Max were sure of it he would not have been so calm about it.”
“Dearest,” and Piet’s voice was as meek as any child’s, “I hope you agree with me, we must get away from this at once.”
“What would people say if we left Jo——”
“Oh! my dearest wife, do not agitate me with all these objections!”
“It looks so cowardly, Piet. And the climate here agrees with you so well. And the building is not finished yet.”
“Well, we must just make the best of it. Anything rather than remain in this infected atmosphere. Oh, Emily, dearest Emily, have you no more affection for your husband? O Lord! the pain, the pain! The shock has set it going again!”