India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction; Love stories
"You haven't swallowed that stuff yet," Monck reminded him. "Get rid of
that first! What a child you are, Tommy! Why can't you behave yourself?"
Tommy's throat worked spasmodically, he made a mighty effort and
succeeded in swallowing. Then, through lips that twitched as if he were
going to cry, weakly he spoke.
"Hullo--hullo--you old bounder!"
"Hullo!" said Monck in stern rejoinder. "A nice game this! Aren't you
ashamed of yourself? You ought to be. I'm furious with you. Do you know
that?"
"Don't care--a damn," said Tommy, and forced his quivering lips to a
smile.
"You will presently, you--puppy!" said Monck witheringly. "You're more
bother than you're worth. Come on, Ralston! Give him another dose!
Tommy, you hang on, or I'll know the reason why! There, you little ass!
What's the matter with you?"
For Tommy's smile had crumpled into an expression of woe in spite of
him. He turned his face into Monck's shoulder, piteously striving to
hide his weakness.
"Feel--so beastly--bad," he whispered.
"All right, old fellow, all right! I know." Monck's hand was on his
head, soothing, caressing, comforting. "Stick to it like a Briton! We'll
pull you round. Think I don't understand? What? But you've got to do
your bit, you know. You've got to be game. And here's your sister
waiting to lend a hand, come all the way to this filthy hole on purpose.
You are not going to let her see you go under. Come, Tommy lad!"
The tears overflowed down Stella's cheeks. She dared not show herself.
But, fortunately for her, Tommy did not desire it. Monck's words took
effect upon him, and he made a trembling effort to pull himself
together.
"Don't let her see me--like this!" he murmured. "I'll be better
presently. You tell her, old chap, and--I say--look after her, won't
you?"
"All right, you cuckoo," said Monck.
CHAPTER V
THE MORNING
Day broke upon a world of streaming rain. Stella sat before a meal
spread in the dining-room and wanly watched it. Peter hovered near her;
she had a suspicion that the meal was somehow of his contriving. But how
he had arrived she had not the least idea and was too weary to ask.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account