There was a pause, and then someone--Jake--murmured something unintelligible. Maud raised herself slightly and saw him standing before the fire. His thick-set figure was turned from her. His head leaned somewhat dejectedly against the high mantelpiece. Capper was standing beside him, lounging against the carved wood in an ungainly attitude, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. At Jake’s muttered words he turned and looked at him keenly, with eyes of semi-quizzical sympathy. "Say, Jake," he said, "the man who walks his horse along a hedge-side never gets there. The hedge has a way of getting higher, moreover, every step he goes. Guess being in love has kind of demoralized you. You’ll never win out this way." Jake moved a little, straightened himself, stood squarely facing the great doctor. "I’m going to win out," he said; and with that very abruptly he wheeled round and came straight to Maud, as though she had called him. So sudden was his movement that she was taken wholly by surprise. He stooped over her and took her hand before she had time to draw back. "It’s all right, my girl," he said, and she heard a note of reassurance in his voice. "The little chap’s come through it finely. There’s nothing to be anxious about. Capper says so; and whatever Capper says goes." "Guess that’s so," said Capper. He remained at his post by the fire, a smile of keen satisfaction on his parchment face. "You shall see him presently; not yet, not for another hour, and then only for a few seconds. He’s got to be kept as quiet as an infant. But I’ve done just what I figured to do. In another six weeks he ought to be learning to walk." "Bunny--walking!" Maud spoke the words as one dazed. The whole of her world seemed suddenly to have changed. It was as if she actually breathed a new atmosphere. She caught her breath, feeling half afraid. "Is it--is it true?" she said. Capper laughed. "Seems like a miracle, does it? Never met with a miracle before? Yet there’s quite a lot of ’em to be seen in this curious old world. Maybe you’ll come across some more, now you’ve started." He came quietly to her, bent and took her free hand into his. She felt his thin, sensitive fingers press her pulse. "I’m quite well indeed," she said in a tone of protest. "Please tell me more about Bunny. I want to hear everything." "My dear lady, you know practically all there is to know," he made answer. "Bunny is going to be one of my proudest successes. But there’s just one thing to be arranged, I want to have him under my own eye for a time. It’s for his own good, so I know your consent is a foregone conclusion. No, not yet of course. I will give him a month here, and then I want to fetch him up to London and keep him in a Home there belonging to my colleague Sir Kersley Whitton until I am able to discharge him as cured. Will you agree to that?"