"
She handed them back and he adjusted them to the bandages. "For
the present, rest is prescribed you know," said she.
"Oh, no!" he declared. "As soon as I've had something to eat, I'll
go. There are a hundred things to be done. Where are my gloves?"
"What gloves? Oh, those white abominations? Why on earth do you
wear them?" Her glance fell upon his right hand, which lay half-
open beside him. "Oh--oh--oh!" she cried in a rising scale of
distress. "What have you done to your hands?"
He reddened perceptibly.
"Nothing."
"Nothing, indeed! Tell me at once!"
"I've been rowing."
"Where to?"
"Oh, out to a ship."
"There aren't any ships, except the Dutch warship. Was it to her?"
"Yes."
"To carry our message--MY message?"
He squirmed.
"I'm awfully sleepy," he protested. "It isn't fair to cross-
examine a witness--"
"When was it?" his ruthless interrogator broke in.
"Night before last."
"How far?"
"How can I tell? Not far. A few miles."
"And back. And it took you all night," she accused.
"What if it did?" he cried peevishly. "A man's got to have some
relief from work, hasn't he? It was livelier than sitting all
night with one's eye glued to a microscope barrel!"
"Oh, beetle man, beetle man! I don't know about you at all.
Pages:
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216