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He lit a match and watched it burn with eyes that were almost covetous.
"That's the last of 'em," he said. "Now I shall die in the open like a gentleman."
He was, in fact, dying very fast.
It did not need Dr. Pollock's a.s.surance to make the girl aware of that.
She longed to help him.
"Would you like to see Mr. Haggard?" she asked awkwardly.
He shook his head, amused.
"He'd come the parson over me."
"I don't think he would."
"He couldn't help it if he was true to his cloth."
"I'm not sure he is," said Boy doubtfully.
"You're the same," he said.
She glanced up at him swiftly.
His eyes were mischievous, almost roguish.
"What d'you mean?"
"You want me to repent."
She coloured guiltily, and he laughed like a boy, delighted with his own cleverness.
"There's one thing Mr. Haggard might do for me," he said. "Lend me Clutton Brock's _Sh.e.l.ley_, if he would. He's got it, I know."
The girl made a mental note, wrinkling her brow.
"Sh.e.l.ley's _Clutton Brock_," she said. "I'll remember."
She sat beside his bed. His eyes dwelt on her keen, earnest young face, and the blue eyes gazing thoughtfully out of the window.
"You're a Philistine," he said at last. "But you're clean. Philistines are. That's the best of them."
"What's a Philistine?" she asked.
He did not answer her.
"You're the cleanest thing I've met," he continued. "There's a flame burning in you all the time that devours all your rubbish. Mine acc.u.mulates and corrupts."
"I don't like you to talk like that," said the girl, withdrawing.
"There's only one thing that'll purge me," the other continued.
"What's that?"
"Fire."
The girl's eyes darkened.
"Are you afraid?" she asked swiftly.
"Of h.e.l.l with a large H?"
She nodded, and he laughed.
"What I've had I've paid for across the counter and got the receipt stamped and signed by the Almighty. No, it's not the fires of h.e.l.l; it's the power of the old sun working on my vile body through the ages that'll renew me with beauty and youth in time. Life's eternal, sure enough; but not on the lines the parsons tell us."
A little later she rose to go.
He detained her.
"Shall you come and see me again?" he asked her.
She gave him a shy and brilliant smile.
"Rather," she said. "So'll mother."
He kissed her hand, and there was beauty in his eyes.
Next day she called with the book from Mr. Haggard.
Dr. Pollock was coming down the path.
"He's out of pain," he said gravely.
Boy returned to Putnam's and picked some violets.
Then she came back to the cottage.
Mrs. Boam was weeping as she opened.
"May I see him?" said the girl.
"Yes, Miss," answered the other. "We shall miss him, Jenny and me. He were that lovable."
Boy went upstairs and entered.
Joses was at peace: the dignity of death upon him.