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114 "Will he talk much before the nurse?" she inquired.

"Don't trouble about that," I answered; "I will see to it that we have a discreet woman."

Her husband had by now gone to his room, and when I went up to him he was lying on the bed.

"What do you want here, you hound?" he growled. "Wait till I'm better. I'll show you up, and her too."

"You get up and I'll help you undress," I replied, but, calm as I appeared, his remarks bothered me. One word against a doctor's reputation and it is damned.

"You're not going to doctor me, don't you think it," growled the sick man. "I'll send for Lanner-Brown." He referred to you!

"All right, get to bed and we'll see," I answered, and he allowed me to help him—showing, of course, how unbalanced his mind was.

I went home, had a cigar and a large cocaine and soda—a strange drink, you say, old man, but as you very well know, a wonderful help at times, if you're used to it.

I had thought, and I decided. This man must not be allowed to cause trouble, and yet it