gravate me yet,
but I wanted to linger forever under the spell of their teasing.

"Who sent them?" I asked in surprise.

"Miss Tescheron."

I was about to say that I didn't know the lady, but I decided that the
plot was too thick for a brain foddered on orange juice by the drop
through a dripper, so I just threw the complications all over, willing
to bide my time. Some accident had tossed me upon this bed of bruises,
but I was pulling out and I gritted my bridge-work, determined to get
out as quickly as possible and pick up my tasks again.

The following morning I felt like a new man. I could actually reach out
for my food. Eighteen hours of sound sleep had put abundant life, hope
and courage into me.

"What a fine color you have!" said the cheery nurse.

"That braces me," said I. "But what I want to get at is this: How did I
come to get here? How long have I been here? How long must I stay here?"

And she laughed joyously, jacking me up several notches in spirits and
at the back with the pillows.

"The doctor says I may tell you," she began. "He left just before you
awoke. The three upper stories of your house were burned out early that
morning, six weeks ago, and the house next door was also damaged. You
must be strong while I tell you this, will you? You were thrown out of
the fifth-story window while you were unconscious. You fell on the
outspread net held by the firemen, but you were badly injured by
striking against the ironwork of the fire-escapes that were rendered
useless because the flames were so great; it was a quick fire. I got the
story from the ambulance doctors. You have been wavering between life
and death ever since, almost, although about the third week you seemed
to begin to mend slowly. Are you comfortable now?"

"Where is Hosley? Is he in jail? Hasn't he been here to see me? Was he
hurt? Was he killed? Hasn't he written to me?"

"My heavens! Why do you ask me is he in jail, and all those questions?
Who is Hosley, pray? Is he a jail-bird? And are you only a jail-bird?
Why do you begin to talk about jail so soon?"

She was born to nurse the ill and tease well folks, and she saw I was
better and could stand it.

"How about those flowers?" I asked. "How is it she brings flowers to
me?"

"Oh, my! Oh, my! Well, I never heard a man complain of the devotion of a
beautiful woman. Dear me, you are a fortunate man; and she must have
lots of money, too. Orchids like those are three dollars. You