kirt of some fluffy
brown stuff or other--

Correcting himself, his face flushed red. The faintest tremble of a
smile was on the girl's lips. She looked down, and for the first time
he saw what O'Connor had seen, the sunlight kindling slumberous fires
in her hair.

Kent tried to say something, but before he succeeded she had taken
possession of the chair near his bedside.

"I have been waiting a long time to see you," she said. "You are James
Kent, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm Jim Kent. I'm sorry Dr. Cardigan kept you waiting. If I had
known--"

He was getting a grip on himself again, and smiled at her. He noticed
the amazing length of her dark lashes, but the violet eyes behind them
did not smile back at him. The tranquillity of their gaze was
disconcerting. It was as if she had not quite made up her mind about
him yet and was still trying to classify him in the museum of things
she had known.

"He should have awakened me," Kent went on, trying to keep himself from
slipping once more. "It isn't polite to keep a young lady waiting two
hours!"

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, tongueless
and mentally dazed. They were cool and sweet and not at all excited.
And he knew that she spoke the truth. Not by a quiver of those lovely
lashes would she betray either fear or horror if he popped off right
there. It was astonishing.

Something like