“You won't shiver long.”
He laid hold of one edge of the blanket and pulled it over him with a strong, quick pull, and tucked it under him. The same with the other side; and now Mr. Eden was in a blanket prison—a regular strait-waistcoat—his arms pinned to his sides. Two more blankets were placed loosely over him.
“Mighty fine, doctor; but suppose a fly or a gnat should settle on my face?”
“Call me and I'll take him off.”
In about three quarters of an hour Dr. Gulson came to his bedside again.
“How are you now?”
“In Elysium.”
“Are you shivering?”
“Nothing of the kind.”
“Are you hot?”