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 them all out and hang them as high as Haman. Some times I think I just hate men!”

And to his amazement the nurse broke into tears and used the towel on her eyes.

“But, look here!” said the doctor. “You spoke up for Mr. MacFarlane. You said he was not responsible for this.”

“And I’ll say it again,” said the nurse. “Can’t you see by what she told me, by the way he came in, by the way he left, that he’d never seen the girl before, that he didn’t know who she was? Because some arrangement had been made by which that child was to bear his name, he assumed responsibility for it, but, good Lord! you can’t convince me in ten years that he had ever seen that girl there on the bed before, or that the marriage certificate I packed among her belonging so the child could have it was a legal document. Don’t you think it!”

Then the nurse went her way and the doctor went his way, and the Keeper of the Bees climbed in the taxi and gave instructions to be driven back to the blue garden.