taken so many chances as other men."

The doctor cut him short with the brief remark that one chance
was all that was necessary. Instead of discussing such
questions, he would make an examination. "We do not say
positively in these cases until we have made a blood test. That
is the one way to avoid the possibility of mistake."

A drop of blood was squeezed out of George's finger on to a
little glass plate. The doctor retired to an adjoining room, and
the victim sat alone in the office, deriving no enjoyment from
the works of art which surrounded him, but feeling like a
prisoner who sits in the dock with his life at stake while the
jury deliberates.

The doctor returned, calm and impassive, and seated himself in
his office-chair.

"Well, doctor?" asked George. He was trembling with terror.

"Well," was the reply, "there is no doubt whatever."

George wiped his forehead. He could not credit the words. "No
doubt whatever? In what sense?"

"In the bad sense," said the other.

He began to write a prescription, without seeming to notice how
George turned page with terror. "Come," he said, after a
silence, "you must have known the truth pretty well."