The wounded man had descended the bridge, and dashed himself against the door beyond it; but, finding it impossible to force his way further, he turned to confront his assailants. ‘But this is not to my blame, grandpére. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. “And now let us leave the men alone and talk about ourselves. “That thing’s going on,” she told herself. She was silent. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation.
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