I thought he was going to be ill again, and begged that there might be no more talking.

He opened his eyes when I spoke, fixed them once more searchingly on Arthur, and said, slowly and distinctly: "You like her, and she likes you.

The poor man may die out of your way.
Who can tell that she may not give you herself as well as her drawing, after all ?" Before young Holliday could answer he turned to me, and said in a whisper: "Now for the prescription." From that time, though he spoke to Arthur again, he never looked at him more.
When I had written the prescription, he examined it, approved of it, and then astonished us both by abruptly wishing us good-night.

I offered to sit up with him, and he shook his head.

Arthur offered to sit up with him, and he said, shortly, with his face turned away, "No." I insisted on having somebody left to watch him.