“Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. The doctor and another man were by his bedside when they entered the room, and there were writing materials which had evidently been used close at hand. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. No fear o' that. “That’s what we narcs have to do. I want to be myself. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. But I won't be cheated of my prize.
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