he slip made out."

They entered a small room, divided unequally by a barrier desk;
behind it stood a lean, coffee-sallowed young man with a scrawny
neck displayed to the uttermost by a standing collar scarcely
taller than the band of a shirt. He directed at Susan one of
those obtrusively shrewd glances which shallow people practice
and affect to create the impression that they have a genius for
character reading. He drew a pad of blank forms toward him,
wiped a pen on the mat into which his mouse-colored hair was
roached above his right temple. "Well, miss, what's the
patient's name?"

"Robert Burlingham."

"Age?"

"I don't know."

"About what?"

"I--I don't know. I guess he isn't very young. But I don't know."

"Put down forty, Sim," said the doctor.

"Very well, Doctor Hamilton." Then to Susan: "Color white, I
suppose. Nativity?"

Susan recalled that she had heard him speak of Liverpool as his
birthplace. "English," said she.

"Profession?"

"Actor."

"Residence?"

"He hasn't any. It was sunk at Jeffersonville. We stop at the
Walnut Street House."

"Walnut Street House. Was he married or single?"

"Single." Then she recalled some of the disconnected ravings.
"I--I--don't know."

"Single," said the clerk. "No, I guess I'll put it widower. Next
friend or relative?"

"I am."

"Daughter. First name?"

"I am not his daughter."

"Oh, niece. Full name, please."

"I am no relation--just his--his friend."

Sim the clerk looked up sharply. Hamilton reddened, glowered at
him. "I understand," said Sim, leering at her. And in a tone
that reeked insinuation which quite escaped her, he went on,
"We'll put your name down. What is it?"

"Lorna Sackville."

"You don't look English--not at all the English style of beauty,
eh--Doctor?"

"That's all, Miss Sackville," said Hamilton, with a scowl at the
clerk. Susan and he went out into Twelfth Street. Hamilton from
time to time stole a glance of sympathy and inquiry into the sad
young face, as he and she walked eastward together. "He's a
strong man and sure to pull through," said the doctor. "Are you
alone at the hotel?"

"I've nobody but him in the world," replied she.

"I was about to venture to advise that you go to a boarding
house," pursued the young man.

"Thank you. I'll see."

"There's one opposite the hospital--a reasonable place."

"I've got to go to work," said the girl, to herself rather than to him.

"Oh