the
sun and grinning apologetically. He had slept well along into the day,
and--

He caught himself with a sudden grimace of pain. A flash of something
hot and burning swept through his chest. It was like a knife. He opened
his mouth to breathe in the air. The pressure inside him was no longer
the pressure of a stethoscope. It was real.

Cardigan, standing over him, was trying to look cheerful. "Too much of
the night air, Kent," he explained. "That will pass away--soon."

It seemed to Kent that Cardigan gave an almost imperceptible emphasis
to the word "soon," but he asked no question. He was quite sure that he
understood, and he knew how unpleasant for Cardigan the answer to it
would be. He fumbled under his pillow for his watch. It was nine
o'clock. Cardigan was moving about uneasily, arranging the things on
the table and adjusting the shade at the window. For a few moments,
with his back to Kent, he stood without moving. Then he turned, and
said:

"Which will you have, Kent--a wash-up and breakfast, or a visitor?"

"I am not hungry, and I don't feel like soap and water just now. Who's
the visitor? Father Layonne or--Kedsty?"

"Neither. It's a lady."

"Then I'd better have the soap and water! Do you mind telling me who it
is?"

Cardigan shook his head. "I don't know. I've never seen her before. She
came this morning while I was still in pajamas, and has been waiting
ever since. I told her to come back again, but she insisted that she
would remain until you were awake. She has been very patient for two
hours."

A thrill which he made no effort to conceal leaped through Kent. "Is
she a young woman?" he demanded eagerly. "Wonderful black hair, blue
eyes, wears high-heeled shoes just about half as big as your hand--and
very beautiful?"

"All of that," nodded Cardigan. "I even noticed the shoes, Jimmy. A
very beautiful young woman!"

"Please let her come in," said Kent. "Mercer scrubbed me last night,
and I feel fairly fit. She'll forgive this beard, and I'll apologize
for your sake. What is her name?"

"I asked her, and she didn't seem to hear. A little later Mercer asked
her, and he said she just looked at him for a moment and he froze. She
is reading a volume of my Plutarch's 'Lives'--actually reading it. I
know it by the way she turns the pages!"

Kent drew himself up higher against his pillows and faced the door when
Cardigan went out. In a flash all that O'Connor had said swept back
upon him--this