This time the blue eyes made him feel that his smile was a maudlin
grin.

"Yes--you are different." She spoke softly, as if expressing the
thought to herself. "That is what I came to find out, if you were
different. You are dying?"

"My God--yes--I'm dying!" gasped Kent. "According to Dr. Cardigan
I'm due to pop off this minute. Aren't you a little nervous,
sitting so near to a man who's ready to explode while you're
looking at him?"

For the first time the eyes changed. She was not facing the
window, yet a glow like the glow of sunlight flashed into them,
soft, luminous, almost laughing.

"No, it doesn't frighten me," she assured him. "I have always
thought I should like to see a man die--not quickly, like drowning
or being shot, but slowly, an inch at a time. But I shouldn't like
to see YOU die."

"I'm glad," breathed Kent. "It's a great satisfaction to me."

"Yet I shouldn't be frightened if you did."

"Oh!"

Kent drew himself up straighter against his pillows. He had been a
man of many adventures. He had faced almost every conceivable kind
of shock. But this was a new one. He stared into the blue eyes,