His eyes glowed as he looked at Blackie.
Then he laughed, showing his even, white teeth. "Why,
you little liar!" he said, in his crisp, clear English.
"I've a notion to thwack you. What d' you mean by
telling me my wife's gone? You're not sweet on her
yourself, eh?"
Von Gerhard stifled an exclamation, and Orme turned
quickly in his direction. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Still another admirer? Jolly time you were having when
I interrupted." He stared at Von Gerhard deliberately
and coolly. A little frown of dislike came into his
face. "You're a doctor, aren't you? I knew it. I can
tell by the hands, and the eyes, and the skin, and the
smell. Lived with 'em for ten years, damn them! Dawn,
tell these fellows they're excused, will you? And by the
way, you don't seem very happy to see me?"
I went up to him then, and laid my hand on his arm.
"Peter, you don't understand. These two gentlemen have
been all that is kind to me. I am happy to know that you
are well again. Surely you do not expect me to be joyful
at seeing you. All that pretense was left out of our
lives long before your--illness. It hasn't been all
roses for me since then, Peter. I've worked until I
wanted to die with weariness.
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