down ignominiously, some one inside moved and threw his shadow on
my little bit of wall--and, by gum, it was Whittington!

"After that, my blood was up. I'd just got to get a look into
that room. It was up to me to figure out how. I noticed that
there was a long branch running out from the tree in the right
direction. If I could only swarm about half-way along it, the
proposition would be solved. But it was mighty uncertain whether
it would bear my weight. I decided I'd just got to risk that, and
I started. Very cautiously, inch by inch, I crawled along. The
bough creaked and swayed in a nasty fashion, and it didn't do to
think of the drop below, but at last I got safely to where I
wanted to be.

"The room was medium-sized, furnished in a kind of bare hygienic
way. There was a table with a lamp on it in the middle of the
room, and sitting at that table, facing towards me, was
Whittington right enough. He was talking to a woman dressed as a
hospital nurse. She was sitting with her back to me, so I
couldn't see her face. Although the blinds were up, the window
itself was shut, so I couldn't catch a word of what they said.
Whittington seemed to be doing all the talking, and the nurse
just listened. Now and then she nodded, and sometimes she'd shake
her head, as though she were answering questions. He seemed very
emphatic--once or twice he beat with his fist on the table. The
rain had stopped now, and the sky was clearing in that sudden way
it does.

"Presently, he seemed to get to the end of what he was saying.
He got up, and so did she. He looked towards the window and