“Very, but splendidly plucky. As long as he was not actually light-headed with the pain last night, his coolness was quite wonderful. But I had an awful job with him towards the end. How long do you suppose this thing has been going on? Just five nights; and not a soul within call except that stupid landlady, who wouldn't wake if the house tumbled down, and would be no use if she did.” “But what about the ballet-girl?” “Yes; isn't that a curious thing? He won't let her come near him. He has a morbid horror of her. Altogether, he's one of the most incomprehensible creatures I ever met--a perfect mass of contradictions.” He took out his watch and looked at it with a preoccupied face. “I shall be late at the hospital; but it can't be helped. The junior will have to begin without me for once. I wish I had known of all this before--it ought not to have been let go on that way night after night.” “But why on earth didn't he send to say he was ill?” Martini interrupted. “He might have guessed we shouldn't have left him stranded in that fashion.” “I wish, doctor,” said Gemma, “that you had sent for one of us last night, instead of wearing yourself out like this.” “My dear lady, I wanted to send round to Galli; but Rivarez got so frantic at the suggestion that I didn't dare attempt it. When I asked him whether there was anyone else he would like fetched, he looked at me for a minute, as if he were scared out of his wits, and then put up both hands to his eyes and said: 'Don't tell them; they will laugh!' He seemed quite possessed with some fancy about people laughing at something. I couldn't make out what; he kept talking Spanish; but patients do say the oddest things sometimes.” “Who is with him now?” asked Gemma. “No one except the landlady and her maid.” “I'll go to him at once,” said Martini. “Thank you. I'll look round again in the evening. You'll find a paper of written directions in the table-drawer by the large window, and the opium is on the shelf in the next room. If the pain comes on again, give him another dose--not more than one; but don't leave the bottle where he can get at it, whatever you do; he might be tempted to take too much.” When Martini entered the darkened room, the Gadfly turned his head round quickly, and, holding out to him a burning hand, began, in a bad imitation of his usual flippant manner: “Ah, Martini! You have come to rout me out about those proofs. It's no use swearing at me for missing the committee last night; the fact is, I have not been quite well, and----” “Never mind the committee. I have just seen Riccardo, and have come to know if I can be of any use.” The Gadfly set his face like a flint. “Oh, really! that is very kind of you; but it wasn't worth the trouble. I'm only a little out of sorts.” “So I understood from Riccardo. He was up with you all night, I believe.” The Gadfly bit his lip savagely. “I am quite comfortable, thank you, and don't want anything.”