The hall at Boldrewood is in the Victorian baronial style, absurd but comfortable. Reggie was still blinking at the light when a woman ran at him. His first notion of the Archduchess Ianthe was vehemence. She came upon him, a great fur cloak falling away from her speed, panting, black eyes glowing, and then stopped short, and her pale face was distorted with passion. “Dr. Fortune! You are not Dr. Fortune!” she cried. “Dr. Fortune, Junior, madame. My father is away, and I am in charge of his practice.” She muttered something in a language he did not know, and looked as if she was going to kill him. His second notion of her was that she was wickedly beautiful. A Greek perfection in the pale face, but, Lord, what a temper! The daintiest grace of body, but it moved and quivered like a whip lash. “My dear Ianthe!” A man came smiling from behind the screen by the fire. He was tall and slight and dandyish: a lot of colour in his clothes, an odd absence of colour in him. A bright blue tie with an emerald in it, a bright blue handkerchief hanging half out of the pocket of the silver-grey coat. But his face had a waxy pallor, his hair, his moustache, and little pointed beard were so fair that they looked like patches of paint on a mask. “We are much obliged by Dr. Fortune’s coming so quickly.” The Archduchess whirled round. “He is too young,” she said in German. “Look at him. He is a boy.” “I beg your pardon, madame,” said Reggie in the same language. “May I see the patient?” The man laughed. “I am sure we have every confidence in your skill, Dr. Fortune.” All the laughter was smoothed out of his face. “And your discretion,” he said in a lower voice. “I am the Archduke Leopold. You may be frank with me. And rely upon my help.” Reggie bowed. “How did the accident happen, sir?” The Archduke turned to his sister-in-law. “You know that I do not know,” she cried. “I was out in the car.” “As my sister says, Dr. Fortune, she was out in the car.” The Archduke paused. “She drives herself. It is with her a little passion. My brother was out walking alone.” “Those long walks! How I hate them!” the Archduchess broke out. “Again, it is with him a little passion. Well, he did not come back. I grew anxious. I am staying here, you understand. My sister was late too. I sent out servants. My brother was found lying in the road not far from the gate of the lodge. He remains unconscious. I fear----” He spread out his hands. “You--you always fear!” the Archduchess cried. They exchanged glances like blows. “May I go up, madame?” Reggie said solemnly. She whirled round and rushed away. “The Archduchess is much agitated,” said the Archduke. “It is most natural,” Reggie murmured. “Most natural. Pray follow me, Dr. Fortune. I will take you to my brother.”