He struggled upright, glaring madly at the intruder. His light gray eyes had a glassiness as of long sickness, and his pupils, which were unnaturally dilated, began rapidly to contract; became almost invisible. Then they expanded again--and again contracted. “Who--the deuce are you?” he murmured, passing his hand across his unshaven face. “My name is--Lucas, sir,” said Soames, conscious that if he remained much longer in the place he should be physically sick. “At your service--shall I prepare the bath?” “The bath?” said the man, sitting up more straightly--“certainly, yes--of course”... He looked at Soames, with a light of growing sanity creeping into his eyes; a faint flush tinged the pallid face, and his loose mouth twitched sensitively. “Then, Said,” he began, looking Soames up and down... “let me see, whom did you say you were?” “Lucas, sir--at your service.” “Ah,” muttered the man, lowering his eyes in unmistakable shame--“yes, yes, of course. You are new here?” “Yes, sir. Shall I prepare your bath?” “Yes, please. This is Wednesday morning?” “Wednesday morning, sir; yes.” “Of course--it is Wednesday. You said your name was?” “Lucas, sir,” reiterated Soames, and, crossing the fantastic apartment, he entered the bathroom beyond. This contained the most modern appointments and was on an altogether more luxurious scale than that attached to his own quarters. He noted, without drawing any deduction from the circumstance, that the fittings were of American manufacture. Here, as in the outer room, there was no window; an electric light hung from the center of the ceiling. Soames busied himself in filling the bath, and laying out the towels upon the rack. “Fairly warm, sir?” he asked. “Not too warm, thank you,” replied the other, now stumbling out of bed and falling into the armchair--“not too warm.” “If you will take your bath, sir,” said Soames, returning to the outer room, “I will brush your clothes and be ready to shave you.” “Yes, yes,” said the man, rubbing his hands over his face wearily. “You are new here?” Soames, who was becoming used to answering this question, answered it once more without irritation. “Yes, sir, will you take your bath now? It is nearly full, I think.” The man stood up unsteadily and passed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Soames, seeking to forget his surroundings, took out from a small hand-bag which he found beneath the bed, a razor-case and a shaving stick. The clothes-brush he had discovered in the bathroom; and now he set to work to brush the creased garments stacked in the armchair. He noted that they were of excellent make, and that the linen was of the highest quality. He was thus employed when the outer door silently opened and the face of Said looked in. “Gazm,” said the Oriental; and he placed inside, upon the carpet, a pair of highly polished boots. The door was reclosed.