"When'll I fold up his bed?" he asked.

"Oh, not now--not yet; he's ill--he's very ill. Can't you let him stay as
he is? The doctor wants him to lie down as much as possible."

He scratched his head. "Well, if he's _really_ sick--"

He took the empty glass and walked away, explaining to the passengers that
the party behind the curtains was too sick to get up just yet.

She found herself the centre of sympathetic eyes. A motherly woman with an
intimate smile sat down beside her.

"I'm real sorry to hear your husband's sick. I've had a remarkable amount
of sickness in my family and maybe I could assist you. Can I take a look
at him?"

"Oh, no--no, please! He mustn't be disturbed."

The lady accepted the rebuff indulgently.

"Well, it's just as you say, of course, but you don't look to me as if
you'd had much experience in sickness and I'd have been glad to assist
you. What do you generally do when your husband's taken this way?"

"I--I let him sleep."

"Too much sleep ain't any too healthful either. Don't you give him any
medicine?"