"I'm not going to burden Lady Farquhar or India. Colter can look out for me," the sick man said.
"It's no trouble. India won't be satisfied unless you come to the hotel," Moya said in a low voice.
He looked at her, was about to decline, and changed his mind. The appeal in her eyes was too potent.
"I'm in the hands of my friends. Settle it any way you like, Miss Dwight. Do whatever you want with me, except put me back in that hell."
After a doctor had seen Jack and taken care of his ankle, after the trained nurse had arrived and been put in charge of the sick room, Captain Kilmeny made a report to Moya and his sister.
"He's gone to sleep already. The doctor says he'll probably be as well as ever in a week, thanks to you, Moya."
"Thanks to you, Ned," she amended.
"He sent to you this record of how he spent his time down there—said it might amuse you."
The Captain looked straight at her as he spoke.
"I'll read it."