"Well, Professor," he remarked quietly, "do you want me to attend
you for apoplexy? Take your time, my dear sir--take your time."
He patted the scientist on the shoulder to soothe his clamorous
rage. "You are already purple in the face. Don't let your blood
rush to your head."

"Robinson, you're a--a--a fool!" shouted Braddock, glaring at
the suave looks of the doctor. "I am in perfect health, damn
you, sir."

"Then Miss Kendal--?"

"She is quite well also. But Bolton--?"

"Oh!" Robinson looked interested. "Has he returned with your
mummy?"

"Mummy," bellowed Braddock, stamping like an insane Cupid--"the
mummy hasn't arrived."

"Really, Professor, you surprise me," said the doctor mildly.

"I'll surprise you more," growled Braddock, dragging Robinson
into the garden and up the steps.

"Gently! gently! my dear sir," said the doctor, who really began
to think that much learning had made the Professor mad. "Didn't
Bolton--?"

"Bolton is dead, you fool."