He took my wrist and felt my pulse for a moment. "I know you are
feeling bad," he said, "but we'll get your wet clothes off and put you
to bed in a minute. You will be a different man in the morning."

"That will be very convenient," I observed faintly.

There was a noise of footsteps outside, the handle of the door turned,
and a man--a huge bear of a man in a long Astrachan coat--strode
heavily into the room. He was followed by a girl whose face was almost
hidden behind a partly-turned-back motor veil. When they caught sight
of me they both stopped abruptly.

"Who's this?" demanded the man.

Dr. McMurtrie made a graceful gesture towards me with his hand.
"Allow me," he said, "to introduce you. Monsieur and Mademoiselle
Savaroff--our distinguished and much-sought-after friend Mr. Neil
Lyndon."

The big man gave a violent start, and with a little exclamation the
girl stepped forward, turning back her veil. I saw then that she was
remarkably handsome, in a dark, rather sullen-looking sort of way.

"You will excuse my getting up," I said weakly. "It doesn't seem to
agree with me."

"Mr. Lyndon," explained the doctor, "is fatigued. I was just proposing
that he should go to bed when I heard the car."

"How in the name of Satan did he get here?" demanded the other man,