I s'll be all right in the morning. But I did myself in when I went with another woman. I felt myself go—as if the bile broke inside me, and I was sick."
"Josephine seduced you?" laughed Lilly.
"Ay, right enough," replied Aaron grimly. "She won't be coming here, will she?"
"Not unless I ask her."
"You won't ask her, though?"
"No, not if you don't want her."
"I don't."
The fever made Aaron naive and communicative, unlike himself. And he knew he was being unlike himself, he knew that he was not in proper control of himself, so he was unhappy, uneasy.
"I'll stop here the night then, if you don't mind," he said.
"You'll have to," said Lilly. "I've sent for the doctor. I believe you've got the flu."
"Think I have?" said Aaron frightened.
"Don't be scared," laughed Lilly.
There was a long pause. Lilly stood at the window looking at the darkening market, beneath the street-lamps.
"I s'll have to go to the hospital, if I have," came Aaron's voice.
"No, if it's only going to be a week or a fortnight's business, you can stop here. I've nothing to do," said Lilly.
"There's no occasion for you to saddle yourself with me," said Aaron dejectedly.
"You can go to your hospital if you like—or back to your lodging—if you wish to," said Lilly. "You can make up your mind when you see how you are in the morning."
"No use going back to my lodgings," said Aaron.
"I'll send a telegram to your wife if you like," said Lilly.
Aaron was silent, dead silent, for some time.
"Nay," he said at length, in a decided voice. "Not if I die for it."
Lilly remained still, and the other man lapsed into a sort of semi-sleep, motionless and abandoned. The darkness had fallen over London, and away below the lamps were white.
