A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. The report of his detention caused an immense sensation. His tone was rough, almost threatening. ‘Cover her, men. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. ‘Léonore, then?’ She shook her head animatedly, enjoying his attention. ‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded. ‘If you’ll have the goodness, missie, to move yourself out of the way,’ he said aggrievedly, ‘and let us at him, we might have a chance of doing just that. "Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory.
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