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awhile,” said Anatole, taking the oil lamp
in his hand and leading the way to the side
aisle. He lay there the last in the row close
to the side entrance. His marble-white
forehead was high and clear, his strong
features were manly and bold, and his
wide-open, still eyes looked straight and fearless
at his accuser.
“I do not believe that story about the
greatcoat,” said the Doctor to Anatole.
* *
The two bloodshot eyes under the bundle
of bandages opened as the Doctor bent over
the Bavarian giant.
“Thank God you have had a little sleep!
Now we are just going to cleanse your mouth
and syringe your throat from all that nasty
stuff which is choking you. If you lie very
still whilst I do that you are going to have a
drop of wine and water like last time—or
would you rather have some milk?”
The nun whispered that there was none,
but luckily the Bavarian had already chosen
the wine and water, according to how the
Doctor read his eyes.
“Wasn’t I right that you preferred wine
and water? There, you see that I can
understand by your eyes what you want to
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