“It wasn’t exactly easy,” he said slowly, “not at first. I fought a good deal until I learned better. After that it was not so hard—only at times, perhaps. Even now, I rebel occasionally, but not for long.”
Which was as near a complaint as any one had ever heard from Doctor Jimmy Burton.
“Jimmy,” said Marta earnestly, “I think that you are the most wonderful man that ever was—that ever could be.”
Saint Jimmy shrugged his shoulders, and waved a protesting hand.
“But you are,” she insisted, “and you know how I love you, don’t you? Not merely because you have helped me as you have, but because you are you. You do know, don’t you, Jimmy?”
There was an odd note in Jimmy’s voice now—it might have been gladness—it might have been protest—or perhaps it was both—with a hint of pain.
“Marta! I
