unmentionable, dreadful disease, and a vague terror took
possession of him.

For days he tried to put it to one side. The idea was nonsense,
it was absurd in connection with a woman so respectable! But the
thought would not be put away, and finally he went to a school
friend, who was a man of the world, and got him to talk on the
subject. Of course, George had to be careful, so that his friend
should not suspect that he had any special purpose in mind.

The friend was willing to talk. It was a vile disease, he said;
but one was foolish to bother about it, because it was so rare.
There were other diseases which fellows got, which nearly every
fellow had, and to which none of them paid any attention. But
one seldom met anyone who had the red plague that George dreaded.

"And yet," he added, "according to the books, it isn't so
uncommon. I suppose the truth is that people hide it. A chap
naturally wouldn't tell, when he knew it would damn him for
life."

George had a sick sensation inside of him. "Is it as bad as
that?" he asked.

"Of course," said the other, "Should you want to have anything to
do with a person who had it? Should you be willing to room with
him or travel with him? You wouldn't even want to shake hands
with him!"

"No, I suppose not," said George, feebly.