I suppose my host noticed the change, for he looked at me in an
approving fashion as he gave me my second helping.

"There you are," he said in that curious dry voice of his. "Eat that
up, and then we'll have a little conversation. Meanwhile--" he paused
and looked round--"well, if you have no objection I think I will shut
that window. I daresay you have had enough fresh air for today."

I nodded--my mouth was too full for any more elaborate reply--and
crossing the room he closed the sash and pulled down the blind.

"That's better," he observed, gently rubbing his hands together; "now
we are more comfortable and more private. By the way, I don't think I
have introduced myself yet. My name is McMurtrie--Doctor McMurtrie."

"I am charmed to meet you," I said, swallowing down a large chunk of
bread.

He nodded his head, smiling. "The pleasure is a mutual one, Mr.
Lyndon--quite a mutual one."

The words were simple and smooth enough in themselves, but somehow or
other the tone in which they were uttered was not altogether to my
taste. It seemed to carry with it the faint suggestion of a cat
purring over a mouse. Still I was hardly in a position to be too
fastidious, so I accepted his compliment, and went on calmly with my
bread and milk.

With the same rather catlike smile Dr. McMurtrie drew up a chair