“I'm not worth all that.”      

       “No girl's worth what I've been going through,” he retorted bitterly. “But that doesn't help any. I don't eat; I don't sleep—I'm afraid sometimes of the way I feel. When I saw you at the White Springs with that roomer chap—”      

       “Ah! You were there!”      

       “If I'd had a gun I'd have killed him. I thought—” So far, out of sheer pity, she had left her hand in his. Now she drew it away.     

       “This is wild, silly talk. You'll be sorry to-morrow.”      

       “It's the truth,” doggedly.     

       But he made a clutch at his self-respect. He was acting like a crazy boy, and he was a man, all of twenty-two!     

       “When are you going to the hospital?”      

       “To-morrow.”      

       “Is that Wilson's hospital?”      

       “Yes.”      

       Alas for his resolve! The red haze of jealousy came again. “You'll be seeing him every day, I suppose.”      

       “I dare say. I shall also be seeing twenty or thirty other doctors, and a hundred or so men patients, not to mention visitors. Joe, you're not rational.”      

       “No,” he said heavily, “I'm not. If it's got to be someone, Sidney, I'd rather have it the roomer upstairs than Wilson. There's a lot of talk about Wilson.”      

       “It isn't necessary to malign my friends.” He rose.     

       “I thought perhaps, since you are going away, you would let me keep Reginald. He'd be something to remember you by.”      

       “One would think I was about to die! I set Reginald free that day in the country. I'm sorry, Joe. You'll come to see me now and then, won't you?”      

       “If I do, do you think you may change your mind?”      

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