The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 276: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

272 Oo lips was not unobserved by me. He said: “You will be telling me next that she put a key in the lock and opened your door!” “Yes!” I responded eagerly; the truthfulness of his words concealed the sarcasm contained in them. “ That 1s exactly what she did.” | The doctor laughed outright at that. Not a loud, but a low, mocking laugh. I mention it because 1t was more 1m- pressive, more cutting, more openly in- sulting, than any words he could have framed. To a direct accusation I could have opposed a denial, but a sneering laugh offered no front for a counter- charge. “ Jasten tome!” [s spoke desperately ; in as command- ing a tone as I could assume. He put up his hand—the hard, impassive look had come back to his face—and stopped me. “My good man,” he said, “ take my advice-—don’t open your mouth again.” “Because if you do, you cannot fail to put your foot in it.” “But think! It is only just that I should have the opportunity of expla- nation—what will be the outcome of this affair? ” “Tt is not for me to say.” “ Let me tell vou “ Then his cold incredulity checked the desire. I came to a stop. Thinking me about to continue, he said: “ Don’t attempt to deceive me “Tf on}y——” “Pray stop. It is useless; you are only wasting your breath and time.” Silence ensued. I realized then how hopeless it would be to say another word. Sinking into a chair, I buried my face In my hands. Before the expiration of the half hour—the critical time fixed by the doctor—there as a slicht, very slight, almost imperceptible, trembling of the sirl’s lips: a fluttering sort of sich came from them. My heart gave a bound—was she coming back to life? The doctor was bending over her in a moment. “Come! You are better now, aren’t you? ” The question was put in a tone to- a? rere gle THE ARGOSY. tally at variance with the one in which he addressed me. There was not lack- ing kindness in his disposition, after all. The voice seemed to wake the girl as from a sleep. She started up, but weakness caused her to fall back. Her eyes remained open, thouch, and she looked round in astonishment. First at the doctor, whom she did not recognize; then her roving eyes came to rest on me. As they did so she shuddered. I started up at that. The injustice, the unwarrantableness, of that move- ment of hers, horrified me. I feared, too, the interpretation the doctor might put on it. { had done nothing to make her shud- der; when it had actually been in my power to lock her up, I had scarcely even used a really harsh word to her. “You are better?” I said, bending forward cagerly. ‘* You went off into a faint and———” The girl—in so far as she was able to do so—shrank away. In a moment the doctor acted; the significance of the girl’s movement was not lost on him. His stern voice, and the stern look on his face as he turned to address me, acted as a curb. “Sit down,” he said in a low, com- pelling voice; “don’t talk. Don't ].” frighten the girl. “Trighten her! IT?” But he paid no more attention to my expostulation than if I had been a fiv buzzingly protesting at capture. Once again his fingers were at the girl’s wrist, and now, with his stethoscope, he was listening to her breathing. Something about the “girl’s heart or pulse prompted him to resort again to his pocket medicine case. W ith quick, sure movements, he poured from a tiny vial; partly filling the glass with water, he gave the girl to drink. Slowly she swallowed it all. “‘Trv and go to sleep, little woman, will vou? Don’t talk—now. Don’t ask questions—now. I will see you come to no harm.” Under the kindness with which he spoke there lav a tone of command. That, as effectually perhaps as his drug, induced the girl to close her eyes. The unconsciousness into which she ecomiicooolKs (GO) awa