"May I ask for Miss Grace this morning, Doctor," I began, politely.
"Yes," interjected Colonel Sheraton. "How's the girl? She ought to be
with us this minute--a moment like this, you know."
Doctor Bond looked at us still gravely. He turned from me to Colonel
Sheraton, and again to Harry Sheraton. "Harry," said he, sternly.
"Didn't you hear me? Get out!"
We three were left alone. "Jack, I must see you a moment alone," said
Doctor Bond to me.
"What's up," demanded Colonel Sheraton. "What's the mystery? It seems to
me I'm interested in everything proper here. What's wrong, Doctor? Is my
girl sick?"
"Yes," said the physician.
"What's wrong?"
"She needs aid," said the old wire-hair slowly.
"Can you not give it, then? Isn't that your business?"
"No, sir. It belongs to another profession," said Doctor. Bond, dryly,
taking snuff and brushing his nose with his immense red kerchief.
Colonel Sheraton looked at him for the space of a full minute, but got
no further word. "Damn your soul, sir!" he thundered, "explain yourself,
or I'll make you wish you had. What do you mean?" He turned fiercely
upon me.
"By God, sir, there's only one meaning that I can guess.
Pages:
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381