“I don’t awfully bore you?” Winch shook his head. “You keep me up--and you see how no one else comes near me.” Mark’s eyes made out that he was better--though it wasn’t yet that nothing was the matter with him. If there was ever a man with whom there was still something the matter--! Yet one couldn’t insist on that, and meanwhile he clearly did want company. “Then there we are. I myself had no one to go to.” “You save my life,” Newton renewedly grinned. VII “Well, it’s your own fault,” Mark replied to that, “if you make me take advantage of you.” Winch had withdrawn his hand, which was back, violently shaking keys or money, in his trousers pocket; and in this position he had abruptly a pause, a sensible, absence, that might have represented either some odd drop of attention, some turn-off to another thought, or just simply the sudden act of listening. His guest had indeed himself--under suggestion--the impression of a sound. “Mayn’t you perhaps--if you hear something--have a call?” Mark had said it so lightly, however, that he was the more struck with his host’s appearing to turn just paler; and, with it, the latter now _was_ listening. “You hear something?” “I thought _you_ did.” Winch himself, on Mark’s own pressure of the outside bell, had opened the door of the apartment--an indication then, it sufficiently appeared, that Sunday afternoons were servants’, or attendants’, or even trained nurses’ holidays. It had also marked the stage of his convalescence, and to that extent--after his first flush of surprise--had but smoothed Monteith’s way. At present he barely gave further attention; detaching himself as under some odd cross-impulse, he had quitted the spot and then taken, in the wide room, a restless turn--only, however, to revert in a moment to his friend’s just-uttered deprecation of the danger of boring him. “If I make you take advantage of me--that is blessedly talk to me--it’s exactly what I want to do. Talk to me--talk to me!” He positively waved it on; pulling up again, however, in his own talk, to say with a certain urgency: “Hadn’t you better sit down?” Mark, who stayed before the fire, couldn’t but excuse himself. “Thanks--I’m very well so. I think of things and I fidget.” Winch stood a moment with his eyes on the ground. “Are you very sure?” “Quite--I’m all right if you don’t mind.”