He set the fact plainly before himself that with care he might recover, but that at any moment some symptom could declare itself which would mean death.
Both he and Joseph had, without making mention of it to each other, counted entirely on finding the Gordons at home.

It was more than a disappointment--very much more for Jack Meredith.

But in real life we do not analyse our feelings as do men in books--more especially books of the mawko-religious tenor written by ladies.

Jack Meredith only knew that he felt suddenly afraid of dying when he read Maurice Gordon's letter, and that when the half-caste woman came into the room and gently asserted her claim, as it were, to supreme authority in this situation, the fear seemed to be allayed.
Joseph, with something bright glistening in his keen, quick eyes, stood watching his face as if for a verdict.
"You are tired," she said, "after your long journey." Then she turned to Joseph with that soft, natural way which seems to run through the negro blood, however much it may be diluted.
"Help Mr.Meredith," she said, "to Mr.Gordon's room.

I will go at once and see that the bed is prepared.".