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"
These
headaches
of
his
,
these
attacks
,
"
Maud
said
,
on
the
afternoon
of
the
fourth
day
;
"
Perhaps
he
is
ill
,
very
ill
.
He
may
be
dead
.
"
"
Or
dying
,
"
was
her
afterthought
when
she
had
waited
some
time
for
me
to
speak
.
"
Better
so
,
"
I
answered
.
"
But
think
,
Humphrey
,
a
fellow-creature
in
his
last
lonely
hour
.
"
"
Perhaps
,
"
I
suggested
.
"
Yes
,
even
perhaps
,
"
she
acknowledged
.
"
But
we
do
not
know
.
It
would
be
terrible
if
he
were
.
I
could
never
forgive
myself
.
We
must
do
something
.
"
"
Perhaps
,
"
I
suggested
again
.
I
waited
,
smiling
inwardly
at
the
woman
of
her
which
compelled
a
solicitude
for
Wolf
Larsen
,
of
all
creatures
.
Where
was
her
solicitude
for
me
,
I
thought
--
for
me
whom
she
had
been
afraid
to
have
merely
peep
aboard
?
She
was
too
subtle
not
to
follow
the
trend
of
my
silence
.
And
she
was
as
direct
as
she
was
subtle
.
"
You
must
go
aboard
,
Humphrey
,
and
find
out
,
"
she
said
.
"
And
if
you
want
to
laugh
at
me
,
you
have
my
consent
and
forgiveness
.
"
