"You'd have been more than human if you hadn't. I was out again after it
in five minutes--as soon as I missed it; you'd gone, but I concluded
you'd seen it. He scribbles dozens like that."

"You seem to admit my conclusion about his mental condition," she
observed stiffly.

"I always admit when I cease to be able to deny. But don't let's stand
here talking. Really, for all I know, he may be dying. His heart seems to
me very bad."

"Go and ask Dr. Irechester."

"He dreads Irechester. I believe the sight of Irechester might finish
him. You must come."

"I can't--for the reasons I've told you."

"Why? My misdeeds? Or your rules and regulations? My God, how I hate
rules and regulations! Which of them is it that is perhaps to cost the
old man his life?"

Mary could not resist the appeal; that could hardly be her duty, and
certainly was not her inclination. Her grievance was not against poor old
Mr. Saffron, with his pitiful delusion of greatness, of a greatness, too,
which now had suffered an eclipse almost as tragical as that which had
befallen his own reason. What an irony in his mad aping of it now!

"I will come, Mr. Beaumaroy, on condition that you give me candidly and