and he hasn't more than ten minutes left to breathe unless that rube
doctor gets here pretty soon. If you've GOT to settle the question
right away, at least have the decency to go out of this room."

Barnes flushed to the roots of his hair. Jones was aghast, dumb with
surprise and anger.

"You are right, Miss Thackeray," said the former, deeply mortified.
"This is not the time nor the place to----"

"He can't understand a word we say," said Putnam Jones loudly. "You
better get out of here yourself, young woman. This is a job for men,
not--"

"I think he's going now," she whispered in an awe-struck voice. "Keep
still, all of you. Is he breathing, Mr. Barnes? That awful cough just
now seemed to--"

"Come away, please," said Barnes, taking her gently by the arm. "I--I
believe that was the end. Don't stay here, Miss Thackeray.
Dillingford, will you be good enough to escort Miss--"

"I've never seen any one die before," she said in a low, tense voice.
Her eyes were fixed on the still face. "Why--why, how tightly he holds
my hand! I can't get it away--he must be alive, Mr. Barnes. Where is
that silly doctor?"

Barnes unclasped the rigid fingers of the man called Andrew Paul, and,
shaking his head sadly, drew her away from the improvised bier. He and
the shivering Mr. Dillingford conducted her to the dining-room, where