«
    »I take your word,« he said scornfully as he loosened her. »But what it is
worth I can't say.«
    »You couldn't kill the pig, but you could kill me!«
    »Ah - there you have me! No - I couldn't kill you - even in a passion. Taunt
away!«
    He then began coughing very much, and she estimated his life with an
appraiser's eye as he sank back ghastly pale. »I'll send for her,« Arabella
murmured, »if you'll agree to my being in the room with you all the time she's
here.«
    The softer side of his nature, the desire to see Sue, made him unable to
resist the offer even now, provoked as he had been; and he replied breathlessly:
»Yes, I agree. Only send for her!«
    In the evening he inquired if she had written.
    »Yes,« she said; »I wrote a note telling her you were ill, and asking her to
come to-morrow or the day after. I haven't posted it yet.«
    The next day Jude wondered if she really did post it, but would not ask her;
and foolish Hope, that lives on a drop and a crumb, made him restless with
expectation. He knew the times of the possible trains, and listened on each
occasion for sounds of her.
    She did not come; but Jude would not address Arabella again thereon. He
hoped and expected all the next day; but no Sue appeared; neither was there any
note of reply. Then Jude decided in the privacy of his mind that Arabella had
never posted hers, although she had written it. There was something in her
manner which told it. His physical weakness was such that he shed tears at the
disappointment when she was not there to see. His suspicions were, in fact, well
founded. Arabella, like some other nurses, thought that your duty towards your
invalid was to pacify him by any means short of really acting upon his fancies.
    He never said another word to her about his wish or his conjecture. A
silent, undiscerned resolve grew up in him, which gave him, if not strength,
stability and calm. One midday when, after an absence of two hours, she came
into the room, she beheld the chair empty.
    Down she flopped on the bed, and sitting, meditated. »Now where the devil is
my man gone to!« she said.
    A driving rain from
