eave me in peace,
can't you? I hate being mauled about by doctors."

"Well then, drink this and I'll leave you in peace. I shall come round
in a day or two, though, and give you a thorough overhauling. I think
you have pulled through the worst of this business now; you don't look
quite so much like a death's head at a feast."

"Oh, I shall be all right soon, thanks. Who's that--Galli? I seem to
have a collection of all the graces here to-night."

"I have come to stop the night with you."

"Nonsense! I don't want anyone. Go home, all the lot of you. Even if
the thing should come on again, you can't help me; I won't keep taking
opium. It's all very well once in a way."

"I'm afraid you're right," Riccardo said. "But that's not always an easy
resolution to stick to."

The Gadfly looked up, smiling. "No fear! If I'd been going in for that
sort of thing, I should have done it long ago."

"Anyway, you are not going to be left alone," Riccardo answered drily.
"Come into the other room a minute, Galli; I want to speak to you.
Good-night, Rivarez; I'll look in to-morrow."

Martini was following them out of the room when he heard his name softly
called. The Gadfly was holding out a hand to him.

"Thank you!"

"Oh, stuff! Go to sleep."

When Riccardo had gone, Martini remained a few minutes in the outer
room, talking with Galli. As he opened the front door of the house he
heard a carriage stop at the garden gate and saw a woman's figure get
out and come up the path. It was Zita, returning, evidently, from some
evening entertainment. He lifted his hat and stood aside to let her
pass, then went out into the dark lane leading from the house to the
Poggio Imperiale. Presently the gate clicked and rapid footsteps came
down the lane.

"Wait a minute!" she said.

When he turned back to meet her she stopped short, and then came slowly
towards him, dragging one hand after her along the hedge. There was a
single street-lamp at the corner, and he saw by its light that she was
hanging her head down as though embarrassed or ashamed.

"How is he?" she asked without looking up.

"Much better than he was this morning. He has been asleep most of the
day and seems less exhausted. I think the attack is passing over."

She still kept her eyes on the ground.

"Has it been very bad this time?"

"About as bad as it can well be, I should think."

"I thought so. When he won't let me come into the room, that always
means it's bad."