But I mustn't think of these things, or I shall grow mad. The crash was tremendous. “What did it matter?” she cried. " "For you!" exclaimed Jonathan; "don't flatter yourself that I'm thinking of you. The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. And from that point they went on to a thoroughly embittering wrangle. But seriously ——” “Well seriously?” “Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you. Without care he will die.
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