"Doctors don't know everything! Why, they told a fellow out at the hospital that his arm would have to come off at the shoulder. He lit out over the hill, bath-robe and all, for his home town, and got six other doctors to sign a paper saying he didn't need an amputation. He got back in twenty-four hours, was tried for being A. W. O. L., and is serving his time in the prison ward to-day. But he's still got his arm all right."
"Good for him!" said Madam heartily; then, recalling the business in hand, she added peevishly: "Well, stop talking now and explain these papers."
Quin went over them several times with great patience, and then held the ink-well while she tremblingly signed her name.
"Kinder awkward doing things on your back," he said sympathetically, as she sank back exhausted.
"Awkward? It's torture. The cast is bad enough in itself; but having to lie in one position like this makes me sore all over."
"You don't have to tell me," said Quin, easing up the bed-clothes with quite a professional air; "I was six months on my back. But there's no sense in keeping you like this. Why don't they rig you up a pulley, so's you can change the position of your body without disturbing your leg?"
"How do you mean?"
"Like this," said Quin, taking a paper-knife and a couple of spoons from the table and demonstrating his point.
Madam listened with close attention, and so absorbed were she and Quin that neither of them were conscious of Miss Isobel's entrance until they heard her feeble protest:
"I would not dare try anything like that without consulting Dr. Rawlins."