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JERRY THE TELLER At midnight a small brougham stopped at.
the gates of the city hospital in Rouen.

A short distance ahead, the lamps of a cab, drawn up at the curbing, made two dull orange sparks under the electric light swinging over the street.

A cigarette described a brief parabola as it was tossed from the brougham, and a short young man jumped out and entered the gates, then paused and spoke to the driver of the cab.
"Did you bring Mr.Barrett here ?" "Yes, sir," answered the driver; "him and two other gentlemen." Lighting another cigarette, from which he drew but two inspirations before he threw it away, the young man proceeded quickly up the walk.
As he ascended the short flight of steps which led to the main doors, he panted a little, in a way which suggested that (although his white waistcoat outlined an ellipse still respectable) a crescendo of portliness was playing diminuendo with his youth.

And, though his walk was brisk, it was not lively.