We found him at the station." "Found him! Was he lost, then ?" asked the Doctor, reaching for his coat.
"Yes," said Bobbie, unexpectedly, "that's just what he was.

He's been telling Mother the sad, sweet story of his life in French; and she said would you be kind enough to come directly if you were at home.

He has a dreadful cough, and he's been crying." The Doctor smiled.
"Oh, don't," said Bobbie; "please don't.

You wouldn't if you'd seen him.
I never saw a man cry before.

You don't know what it's like." Dr.Forrest wished then that he hadn't smiled.
When Bobbie and the Doctor got to Three Chimneys, the Russian was sitting in the arm-chair that had been Father's, stretching his feet to the blaze of a bright wood fire, and sipping the tea Mother had made him.
"The man seems worn out, mind and body," was what the Doctor said; "the cough's bad, but there's nothing that can't be cured.