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ANNE’S HOUSE OF DREAMS

“He’s right,” exclaimed Anne, with a complete change of front. ’I believe myself that you modern doctors are entirely too fond of making experiments with human flesh and blood.”

“Rhoda Allonby would not be a living woman today if I had been afraid of making a certain experiment,” argued Gilbert. “I took the risk—and saved her life.”

“I’m sick and tired of hearing about Rhoda Allonby,” cried Anne—most unjustly, for Gilbert had never mentioned Mrs. Allonby’s name since the day he had told Anne of his success in regard to her. And he could not be blamed for other people’s discussion of it.

Gilbert felt rather hurt.

“I had not expected you to look at the matter as you do, Anne,” he said a little stiffly, getting up and moving towards the office door. It was their first approach to a quarrel.

But Anne flew after him and dragged him back.

“Now, Gilbert, you are not ‘going off mad.’ Sit down here and I’ll apologise bee-yew-ti-fully, I shouldn’t have said that. But—oh, if you knew—”

Anne checked herself just in time. She had been on the very verge of betraying Leslie’s secret.

“Knew what a woman feels about it,” she concluded lamely.

“I think I do know. I’ve looked at the matter from every point of view—and I’ve been driven to the conclusion that it is my duty to tell Leslie that I believe