gently on a sofa. These are the times that try men's souls."

The sun was now shining strongly through the windows of the
morning-room. Bayliss lowered the shades. Jimmy Crocker sank onto
the sofa, and closed his eyes.

"Bayliss."

"Sir?"

"A conviction is stealing over me that I am about to expire."

"Shall I bring you a little breakfast, Mr. James?"

A strong shudder shook Jimmy.

"Don't be flippant, Bayliss," he protested. "Try to cure yourself
of this passion for being funny at the wrong time. Your comedy is
good, but tact is a finer quality than humour. Perhaps you think
I have forgotten that morning when I was feeling just as I do
to-day and you came to my bedside and asked me if I would like a
nice rasher of ham. I haven't and I never shall. You may bring me
a brandy-and-soda. Not a large one. A couple of bath-tubs full
will be enough."

"Very good, Mr. James."

"And now leave me, Bayliss, for I would be alone. I have to make
a series of difficult and exhaustive tests to ascertain whether I
am still alive."