This blessed capability was quite distinct from her skill with
medicines--it was a gift, and as much a part of her as the healing
magic which dwells in the sunshine.
Certainly her knack of lending health and strength from her own
abundant store had never been better shown than in Esteban's case,
for with almost no medical assistance she had brought him back
from the very voids. It was quite natural, therefore, that she
should take a pride in her work and regard him with a certain
jealous proprietary interest; it was equally natural that he
should claim the greater share of her attention.
"Have you harrowed this poor man's feelings sufficiently for
once?" she inquired of O'Reilly.
"I have. I'll agree to talk about nothing unpleasant hereafter."
Esteban turned to his nurse, inquiring, abruptly, "Do you think
Rosa is alive?"
"Why, of course I do! Aren't you alive and--almost well?"
Now, as an argument, there was no particular force in this
suggestion; nevertheless, both men felt reassured. Esteban heaved
a grateful sigh. After a moment he said,
"There is something I want to tell you both."
"Wait until to-morrow," Norine advised.
But he persisted: "No! I must tell it now. First, however, did
either of you discover an old coin in any of my pockets--an old
Spanish doubloon?"
"That doubloon again!" Norine lifted her hands protestingly, and
cast a meaning look at O'Reilly.
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