So it was with something like impatience that he threw open the window and ordered Narodkine's peasants to leave the bedroom, and he was more than ever astonished when the latter remained stolidly where they were and when the prince backed their dumb, passive refusal with eager, excited words.
"No, no!" he cried. "They will remain with me—I need them—I—"
"You tell em to clear out!" the doctor cut in impatiently. "You have to do as I tell you if you want me to treat you!"
It was only when he picked up his leather case and threatened to leave that Narodkine spoke to his servants in purring Russian, ordering them out of the room.
They left—and the doctor, keenly tuned to observations and impressions, was positive that they had only gone as far as the next room, ready to return at their master's slightest gesture or word. But he paid no further attention to them.
"You need sleep," he said to the prince, "and a cool, dark room."
But when he lifted his hand to turn out the great Venetian chandelier which swung from the center
