But Gavin drew courteously away from her supporting arm and
faced Milo.

"I can only thank you," said he, "for patching me up so well.
I'm a lot better, now. And I've a long way to go. So, I'll
be starting. Thanks, again, both of you. I'm sorry to have
put you to so much bother." He reeled, cleverly, caught at
the couch-head again, and took an uncertain step toward the
door. But now, not only Claire but her brother barred his
way.

"Don't be an idiot!" stormed Milo. "Why, man, you couldn't
walk a hundred yards, with that groggy head on your shoulders!
You're all beaten up. You'll be lucky if you're on your feet
in another three days. What sort of cur do you think I am, to
let you go like this, after all you've done for me, to-night?
You'll stay with us till to-morrow, anyhow. And then, if you
still insist on going back to Miami, I'll take you there in
the car. But you're not going a step from here, to-night.
I--"

Gavin strove to mutter a word of disclaimer, to take another
wavering stride toward the front door. But his knees gave
away under him. He swayed forward, and must have fallen, had
not Milo Standish caught him.

"Here," Milo bade his sister, as he laid the limp body back on
the couch. "Go and tell the maids to get the gray room ready
as quickly as possible. I'll carry him up there. It was
rotten of me to go on catechizing him, like that, and letting