She remembered the doctor's warning that the real battle would begin when the patient recovered consciousness. “Do you believe me now?” She asked. ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. Given the proper incentive, who could say that he might not likewise go nobly to some fine end? She thrilled. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Wood brought up. “What a hypocrite you are.
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