That he
attempted it spoke well for the fellow's strength of character.
The time came finally when he could no longer permit the girl to
deceive herself or him with her brave assumption of cheerfulness.
Norine had just told him that he was doing famously, but he smiled
and shook his weary head.
"Let's be honest," he said. "You know and I know that I can't get
well."
Norine was engaged in straightening up the interior of the bark
hut in which her patient was installed; she ceased her labors to
inquire with lifted brows:
"Tut! Tut! Pray what do you mean by that?"
"There's something desperately wrong with me and I realized it
long ago. So did you, but your good heart wouldn't let you--"
Norine crossed quickly to the hammock and laid her cool hand upon
the sick man's forehead.
"You mustn't be discouraged," she told him, earnestly. "Remember
this is a trying climate and we have nothing to do with. Even the
food is wretched."
Esteban's smile became wistful. "That isn't why my fever lasts. If
there were any life, any health left in me you would rekindle it.
No, there's something desperately wrong, and--we're wasting time."
"You simply MUSTN'T talk like this," she cried. Then at the look
in his eyes she faltered for the briefest instant. "You'll--undo
all that we've done. Oh, if I had you where I could take proper
care of you! If we were anywhere but here you'd see.
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