" The doctor was in the middle fifties, gray and careworn, but with alert blue eyes and a gentle mouth. Her nerves were shattered, her senses dazed by this unexpected shock. And all to satisfy a succession of rapacious lightskirts. ’ ‘Do not make a game with me,’ she interrupted, gripping her underlip firmly between her teeth to stop the threatening laughter. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say. ‘I do not need for you to tell me this. That night in Paris I saw on the bills ‘Fatal Motor Accidents. That's slang, meaning you're splendid. She leaves town to-morrow. And so I'll tell you what I did —" And she burst into a laugh that froze Jack's blood in his veins. He seized a tray, squatted on the floor, and imitated the tom-tom. The relationship seemed to have almost as much to do with blood and body as a mortgage. ’ Then she frowned. “I believe it is.
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