Page:The Story of the Gadsbys - Kipling (1888).djvu/83

 —I don't feel pretty. I feel very ill. My heart won't work. It's nearly dead inside me, and there's a funny feeling in my eyes. Everything seems the same distance—you and the wardrobe and the table—inside my eyes or miles away. What does it mean, Pip?

—You're a little feverish, Sweetheart—very feverish. (Breaking down.) My love! my love! How can I let you go?

—I thought so. Why didn't you tell me that at first?

—What?

—That I am going to die.

—But you aren't! You shan't!

(stepping into verandah after a glance at the bed).—Coolie boy—stop pulling punkah.

—It's hard, Pip. So very, very hard after one year—just one year. (Wailing.) And I'm only twenty. Most girls aren't even married at twenty. Can't they do anything to help me? I don't want to die.

—Hush, dear. You won't.

—What's the use of talking. Help me! You've never failed me yet. Oh, Phil, help me to keep alive! (Feverishly.) I don't believe you wish me to live. You weren't a bit sorry when that horrid Baby thing died. I wish I'd killed Baby!

(drawing his hand across his forehead).—It's more than a man's meant to bear—it's not right. (Aloud.) Minnie love, I'd die for you if it would help.

—No more death. There's enough already. Pip, don't you die too.

—I wish I dared.

—It says: "Till Death do us part". Nothing after that and so it would be no use. It stops at the dying. Why does it stop there? Only such a very short life, too. Pip, I'm sorry we married.

—No! Anything but that, Min!

—Because you'll forget and I'll forget. Oh Pip,