Tom，“saidArthurgently，afteranotherminute，“doyouseewhyIcouldnotgrievenowtoseemydearestfrienddie？Itcan’tbe——itisn’t——allfeverorillness。Godwouldneverhaveletmeseeitsoclearifitwasn’ttrue。Idon’tunderstanditallyet；itwilltakememylifeandlongertodothat——tofindoutwhattheworkis。“
WhenArthurstoppedtherewasalongpause。Tomcouldnotspeak；hewasalmostafraidtobreathe，lestheshouldbreakthetrainofArthur’sthoughts。Helongedtohearmore，andtoaskquestions。Inanotherminutenineo’clockstruck，andagentletapatthedoorcalledthembothbackintotheworldagain。
Theydidnotanswer，however，foramoment；andsothedooropened，andaladycameincarryingacandle。
Shewentstraighttothesofa，andtookholdofArthur’shand，andthenstoopeddownandkissedhim。
“Mydearestboy，youfeelalittlefeverishagain。Whydidn’tyouhavelights？You’vetalkedtoomuch，andexcitedyourselfinthedark。“