"What brought on this fever?" she asked, after the usual inquiries.
"A variety of causes, I should imagine," he answered. "The immediate one was a severe chill."
"They say he has lost all his money and is deeply in debt," she observed.
"Who says?" he demanded—too sharply, for he did not like this woman.
"Oh, I have heard of it," she answered.
"It is not true then. I don't know of his being in debt at all; if he is, he has friends who will see him through until he gets all right again."
"Oh, well," she said, apparently much relieved, "it is of no great consequence, so long as his voice is not touched. With
his voice he can always retrieve himself and keep well ahead. They do tell such stories. Thank you, Mr. Mangan. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," said he, with unnecessary coldness; why should a disciple of Marcus Aurelius take umbrage at any manifestation of our common human nature?
She turned for a moment as he opened the door for her.