He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. “La belle ‘Alcide,’ wasn’t it? Annabel Pellissier was her real name. It took all my self control not to let my hands wander. For fully five minutes he lay quite motionless. The patient fell into a natural and refreshing sleep.
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