“May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially. As for the doctor, he found a pleasure in this service that would have puzzled him had he paused to analyse it. . ‘Moi, je vais vous tuer!’ ‘I don’t think so,’ Gerald said through his teeth. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. I’ve told you that practically already. He became primitive, literal in his conception; the ramifications were, for the nonce, fairly relegated to limbo. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth.
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