e me as much as I want to see him an'
more. Now you jest leave go of him, and you Dr. Blake, come right along
with me, or I'll make a scene and scandal right here in front of the
club."

The hall-boy, with the exaggerated desire to avoid scandal which marks
the perfect club servant, fell away. As for Dr. Blake, this seemed the
line of least resistance. Life and death, misery and happiness--all
looked equally dim and rosy.

Mme. Le Grange said nothing until they were three doors away. Under the
marquee of a restaurant, she stopped, whirled Blake, whom she still
held by an arm, within the entrance.

"You've been drinkin'," she said. "Now don't talk back. The question in
my mind is whether you're clear enough in your head to understand what
I've got to say, because it's something you want to hear straight and
quick. See that table over in the corner? Let's see you walk to it and
take off your hat and pull out a chair for me an' tell the waiter we
won't eat till the rest of our party comes. If you can do that, you can
listen to me."

Blake, feeling that someone else was going through these motions,
obeyed.

"Legs are straight," commented Rosalie Le Grange as she settled herself
and picked at her glove buttons. "How's your head? Are you takin' in
what I tell you?"

"Yes. I hear you. Why won't you leave me alone?"

"Tongue's pretty straight, too. Can't have much in you, though you do
look like the last whisper of a misspent life. Well, men can't cry just
when they want to, though a woman knows they cry oftener than any _man_
ever sees. You have to take it out in booze."

Blake heard his own voice, far away, saying:

"What did you come for?"

"You'll know soon enough. If I didn't have the patience of an angel I'd
never have waited. Gee, those gentlemen's clubs is exclusive! Now I
want you to remember you're drunk and keep quiet and not hurry me. I've
got things to tell you. Miss Markham came in from a walk this
morning--"

Dr. Blake saw his own hand lift in a gesture of repulsion, heard his
own voice say:

"I don't want to hear about her."

"Will you kindly remember," said Rosalie Le Grange, "that you're
supposed to be drunk? She came in from a walk this morning about half
past ten, in a worse state than I ever saw her. I didn't much care, way
I felt about her then--you know--now let me go my own way. Mrs. Markham
was shut in her room all the morning. I was busy packing--I was getting
ready to send in my not