especially when you take into account
that I'd have been six feet under the sod by now, if I hadn't
discovered that sunshine was poison to my constitution. It sort of
draws all the vitality out of me, same as it draws the oil out of goose
feathers. I'd have improved a good ideal faster," Joel continued with
sudden irritation, "if it hadn't been for Persis' carelessness in
leaving the door open. You'd think that I had a good big life
insurance in her favor, the way she acts. As the Frenchman said,
'Defend me from my friends, I can defend myself--'"

"I've always understood that sunshine was about the healthiest of
anything," interrupted Thomas, reddening angrily at the criticism of
Persis. "And if you want my opinion, you look to me a good deal like a
plant that's sprouted in the cellar."

The last thing Joel wanted was another's opinion. He continued as
though Thomas had not spoken.

"And besides that, I've been eating too much meat. Science tells us
that the human body is pretty near all water. Don't that show that
most of the needs of the body can be supplied by drinking plenty of
water?"

Thomas shook his head. "I'd hate to try it. When I'm hungry, I
wouldn't swap a good piece of beef-steak for a hogshead of water."

"You eat too much meat." Joel, extending an almost transparent hand
toward his sister's caller, shook a bony forefinger in warning.
"You're undermining your constitution. You're shortening your days by
your inordinate use of animal food."

"Me! Why, bless you, Joel, I never was sick a day in my life."

"Well, that don't prove that you never will be, does it? And anybody
with half an eye can see that you're not in good shape. Flesh don't
show nothing. A man who weighs two hundred is the first to go under
when disease gets hold of him. Your color, as like as not, is due to
fever. How many times a day do you eat meat?"

"Well, always twice, and sometimes--"

Joel groaned. "Rank suicide! Suicide just as much as if you put a
revolver to your head. It sounds well to talk about prime cuts of beef
and all that, but when you come down to cold facts, what's meat? Dead
stuff, that's all. It ain't reasonable to talk of building up life out
of death."

Persis' quick ear had caught the sound of stealthy movements in the
adjoining room. She wove her needle into the seam, a practise so
habitual that probably she would have done the same if the lamp had
exploded unexpectedly, and cros