"I'll stake my professional reputation"--he began.
"Don't be a fool," I whispered. "I've lost my life's
happiness and you'd better take me home."
As I spoke the 'rickshaw was gone. Then I lost all knowledge of
what was passing. The crest of Jakko seemed to heave and roll
like the crest of a cloud and fall in upon me.
Seven days later (on the 7th of May, that is to say) I was aware that
I was lying in Heatherlegh's room as weak as a little child.
Heatherlegh was watching me intently from behind the papers on
his writing-table. His first words were not encouraging; but I was
too far spent to be much moved by them.
"Here's Miss Kitty has sent back your letters. You corresponded a
good deal, you young people. Here's a packet that looks like a ring,
and a cheerful sort of a note from Mannering Papa, which I've
taken the liberty of reading and burning. The old gentleman's not
pleased with you."
"And Kitty?" I asked, dully.
"Rather more drawn than her father from what she says. By the
same token you must have been letting out any number of queer
reminiscences just before I met you.
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