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"Is that so?" said Bruce, with great concern. "I'm sorry to hear that. I tell you what, Judy, we'll form a partnership, you and I, and we'll see to it that they behave themselves better in the future. They've proved that they can't take proper care of themselves, so we'll have to play guardian angels." "Do I?" asked Bruce innocently. "I wish there was a mirror here so I could see how that looks. Here comes François with the bouillon and omelets. Don't let him see me, please, till I've gotten up a better expression." Bruce stepped to the space that had been with difficulty kept at the west side of the studio, and stood before them with his hand raised..
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He bent down to replace the bedclothes which the sick man had thrown off, and as he did so, a faint perfume, sickly and rich, struck his nostrils. It seemed to come from the bandages at the back of the head, and on bending down for a closer inspection, Jen saw that one of these--it was the merest corner which peeped out--was of finer linen than the rest. The fabric was cambric, and with a start which made the blood turn to ice in his veins, Jen realized that it was a woman's handkerchief--its delicacy and border-embroideries assured him of this. Elinor thanked her cordially, while Patricia almost dislocated her neck trying to get a glimpse of the big canvas that protruded from the locker while still keeping far enough behind Elinor for her curiosity to pass unnoticed. "We found the window open when we came in," said Maurice. "Did you open it?" "It would take the hydra-headed monster of—may I bring my mother to call on you and the—Mrs. Henderson?" he asked, and poured the wonder smile all over me. Again I almost caught my breath..
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