You're a doctor, not a lawyer; that's all." He led the way to the door of Josephine's room, and the doctor, stained with travel as he was, entered.

He was an old man, gray and lean, consumed in his time by fevers and chills, in the treatment of which he was perhaps more skilful than in surgery.

He approached the couch not unkindly and stood in preliminary professional scrutiny of his patient.

The face turned toward him, framed in its dark roll of hair, caused him to start with surprise.
Even thus flushed in the fever of pain, it seemed to him no face ever was more beautiful.

Who was she?
How came she here?
In spite of Dunwody's command many questions sprang to his own mind, almost to his lips.