Presently he continued. "Now, while Hoyle is not here, I wish to talk to you a little about him."
"Yes, David." Her heart fluttered with a nameless fear, but she betrayed no sign of emotion.
"You've seen, of course. It's not necessary to tell you."
"No, David—only—does it mean death?" She put her hand out to him, and he took it in his and stroked it.
"Not surely. We'll make a fight for him, won't we, dear?"
"Oh, David! What can we do?" she moaned.
"There's a thing to do that I've been reserving as a last resort. I think the time has come to try it. This curvature presses on some vital part, and the action of his heart is uncertain. He needs the tonic of the cold,—the ice and snow. Would you trust him to me, dear? I'll take him to Doctor Hoyle. You know very well everything kindness and skill can do will be done for him there."
"Yes, yes, David. You are so good to him always! Would—would you go—alone with him?" She drew closer to him, her head on his shoulder and her hand in his, but he could not see her face.
"You mean without you, dearest?"
"Yes."