human
Well, that's rather an eloquent thank-you, eh? murmured Burns, as he patted the hands in reply.
gpt
No doubt but he's grateful. Put the fiddle where he can see it in the morning, will you, honey? Open the window pretty well: I've covered him thoroughly, and he has a touch of fever to keep him warm. Good-night, little Hungary. Luck's with you to-night, to get into this lady's house.
human
Come sit beside me in the Retreat, he invited, using the name he had long ago given to the luxurious blue couch where he was accustomed, since his marriage, to rest and often to catch a needed nap. He drew the winsome figure close within his arm, resting his red head against the dark one below it.
gpt
I don't seem to feel particularly tired, now, he observed.
human
Curious, isn't it? Fatigue, as I've often noticed, is more mental than physical--with most of us. Your ditch-digger is tired in his back and arms, but the ordinary person is merely tired because his mind tells him he is.
gpt
You are never too tired to rouse yourself for one patient more, was Ellen's answer to this.
human
The last one seems to cure you of the one before.
gpt
You can't make me out such an enthusiast in my profession as that. I turned away two country calls to-night--too lazy to make 'em.
human
But you would have gone if they couldn't have found anybody else.
gpt
That goes without saying--no merit in that. The ethics of the profession have to be lived up to, curse 'em as we may, at times. Len, how are we to get to know something about little Hungary upstairs? Those eyes of his are going to follow me into my dreams to-night.
human
I suppose there are Hungarians in town?
gpt
Not a one that I ever heard of. Plenty in the city, though. The waiter at the Arcadia, where I get lunch when I'm at the hospital, is a Magyar. By Jove, there's an idea! I'll bring Louis out, if Hungary can't get into the hospital to-morrow--and I warn you he probably can't. I shouldn't want him to take a twelve-mile ambulance ride in this weather. That touch of fever may mean simple exhaustion, and it may mean look out for pneumonia, after all the exposure he's had. I'd give something to know how it came into his crazy head to stand and fiddle outside a private house in a January storm. Why didn't he try a cigar shop or some other warm spot where he could pass the hat? That's what Louis must find out for me, eh? Len, that was great music of his, wasn't it? The fellow ought to have a job in a hotel orchestra. Louis and I between us might get him one.