"You see," he said vaguely, "I sit up here hour by hour, and I think that I fancy things.
Only a little while ago I fancied that I heard Mr.Walsh's voice, and he wanted the mission-box, the wooden box with the cross, you know.

I keep on thinking I hear him.

Stupid, isn't it ?" He smiled weakly, and his bony fingers stole round the tumbler which stood by his side.

She shook her head at him smiling, and crossed over to him.

She was not afraid any more.
"I wouldn't drink if I were you," she said, "it can't be good for you, I'm sure!" "Good," he answered slowly, "it's poison--rank poison." "If I were you," she said, "I would put all this stuff away and go for a nice walk.