The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. The carte de jour was before Monsieur. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. "I'm glad to hear it, that's all," he added, taking out his snuff-box, his never-failing resource in such emergencies. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. ‘Aye, miss, like a shadow. Larry kept digging heartily into his spaghetti, not intrigued in the slightest.
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