At length the manager arrived; and together he and Ruth succeeded in getting some of the aromatic spirits of ammonia down the patient's throat. He had a wild impulse to shout. She had exposed the real story behind Peters tragedy, that dark, handsome Chuck had killed himself by leaving the car running in the garage, not from a “heart attack” as 111 claimed the party line. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. This was David Courtlaw, whose ways, too, had never been very different from the ways of other men as regards her sex. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. It was her distinctive test of an emotional state, its interference with a kindly normal digestion. She would always be waiting upon this boy, he mused.
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