" But now that Kai
Bok-su had a chance to rest, he could not. Sleep had been chased
away too long to stay with him. Night and day he tossed about,
wide awake and burning with fever. His temperature was never less
than 102 during those days, and all the doctor's efforts could
not lower it. The awful heat of September was on, and the great
typhoons that would soon sweep across the country and clear the
air had not yet come. The glaring sun and the stifling damp heat
were all against the patient. At last one day the doctor saw a
crisis was approaching. He stood looking down at the hot, flushed
face, at the burning eyes, and the restless hands that were never
still, and he said to himself, "If the fever does not go down
to-day, he will die."
The doctor went along College Road toward his home, answering the
eager, anxious questions that met him on all sides with only a
shake of his head.
A Hoa followed him, his drawn face full of pleading. Was he no
better? he asked with quivering lips. It was the question poor A
Hoa asked many, many times a day, for he never left the house
when not away on duty.
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