may be one or two in that collection of—of—eh—parasites who will want to say good-by. I doubt it, after they've heard that will, but we have to be prepared."
"What'll they want to do to me?" I asked.
"Your Aunt Agatha, I imagine, may even want to kiss you."
"Gee!" I gasped. "I've got to earn that six hundred, after all!"
"But don't worry, my dear. It'll all go off as smooth as a corps-drill. All you must remember is to lay limp—lay limp and don't move. Let 'em kiss your hand if they want to. But keep weak. Don't try more than a mere whispered *Good-by,' a very faint 'Good-by,'" he lilted, pinching the air between a pointed thumb and forefinger.
"But supposing one of that bunch should try to talk to me?" I demanded, sharing little of that old scoundrel's faith in his policy of limpness.
"Doctor Klinger, of course, will be here beside you. He'll be present, naturally, to protect his patient. And Miss Ledwidge will also help. They will see that you are not overtaxed."
The old weasel looked up as Doctor Klinger himself stepped into the room. That man of medicine was plainly a bad color and quite as plainly far from
