She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. " "By the name of The Tigress?" The doctor smiled, but shook his head. She did not learn the kind of looks she had been bestowing upon him at a convent. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. It was enough. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. Sometimes he was obviously irritable and uncomfortable and unfortunate in his efforts to seem at ease. “I can only repeat what I said before,” she declared. Spurling attended him as his nurse, and, under her care, he speedily revived. Mr. .
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