I never even asked why, for three days, Sally never entered the room where I lay.

I associated this fact, however, with what I had imagined her shrinking from me, her intent and pale face, her singular manner when occasion made it necessary or unavoidable for her to be near me.
No difficulty was there in associating my change of mood with her absence.

I brooded.

Steele's keen insight betrayed me to him, but all his power and his spirit availed nothing to cheer me.

I pretended to be cheerful; I drank and ate anything given me; I was patient and quiet.
But I ceased to mend.
Then, one day she came back, and Steele, who was watching me as she entered, quietly got up and without a word took Diane out of the room and left me alone with Sally.
"Russ, I've been sick myself--in bed for three days," she said.