The doctor jumped to his feet. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. "You're in danger. Leave me my blanket! I'm very cold at night.
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