Before I could get rid of my guests she had gone to bed.

At length they went, and going to my study I began to smoke and think.
I was now sure that the bright flush upon her cheeks was due to what we doctors call _pyrexia_, the initial fever of smallpox, and that the pest which I had dreaded and fled from all my life was established in my home.

The night was hot and I had drunk my fill of wine, but I sat and shook in the ague of my fear.

Jane had the disease, but she was young and strong and might survive it.

I should take it from her, and in that event assuredly must die, for the mind is master of the body and the thing we dread is the thing that kills us.
Probably, indeed, I had taken it already, and this very moment the seeds of sickness were at their wizard work within me.