I don't feel myself.' 'You are ill, Thyrza.

Am I to forgive you for that ?' 'Yes, I am ill.

Gilbert, is it too late to ask you?
Will you put it off for a week, one week ?' He let a minute pass before replying.

Seeing that she trembled as she stood, he led her to a chair, the chair in which she always sat.
'Dear,' he said at length, 'I will do whatever you wish.' 'I shall be better by then, I think.

But I'll go with you to buy the things just the same.' 'We can leave that for a few days,' he said absently.
'It wouldn't make any difference to you at the library ?' 'None, I am sure, I will write and tell Mr.Egremont.He will be very sorry to hear of your illness.' She stood up, and looked at the clock.
'I've made you late for your work.' 'I shan't go to-day.' 'You won't go ?' she asked.
'I can't, Thyrza.