’ ‘What?’ gasped Gerald, shocked. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. Let alone a girl. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. Now it is—’ ‘What are you doing still here, missie, that’s what I’d like to know?’ demanded the man Trodger, sticking to his guns. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely.
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