Even if I
did stay, all I could do would be to give him a dose of quinine or
calomel once in a while, and that isn't what he needs. He needs
some one to be around and watch after things--this whole place is
sick, as much as the owner of it. I reckon you've got to help me,
my dear."
She looked at him, her large, dark eyes slightly contracting,
making neither protest nor assent. He drew a long breath of
satisfaction.
"Of course you'll stay," he said; "it's the right thing to do, and
we both know it. You don't want to kill a man, no matter how much
he desires or deserves it. Doctors and women--they sometimes are
fatal, but they don't consciously mean to be, now do they? We
don't ask many questions out here in these hills, and I will never
bother you, I feel entirely free to ask you to remain at least for
a few days--or maybe weeks."
[Illustration: Doctors and women--they sometimes are fatal.]
Her eyes still were on his face. It was a face fit for trust.
"Very well," said she at length, quietly.
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