"He is right," murmured Alice, "we must be serious. Lloyd, let me go," and with an effort she freed herself. "I can only stay here half an hour, and I don't know how much of it we have wasted already." She tried to look at him reproachfully, but her eyes were swimming with tenderness.
"It wasn't wasted, dear," he answered fondly. "To have held you in my arms like that will give me courage for whatever is to come."
"But, Lloyd," she reasoned, "nothing bad will come if you do what I say. I am here to help you, to get you out of this dreadful place."
"You little angel!" he smiled. "How are you going to do it?"
"I'll tell you in a moment," she said, "but, first, you must answer some questions. Never mind why I ask them, just answer. You will, won't you, Lloyd? You trust me?"
"Of course I trust you, sweetheart, and I'll answer anything that I—that I can."
"Good. I'll begin with the easiest question," she said, consulting her list. "Sit down here—that's right. Now, then, have you ever had gout or rheumatism? Don't laugh—it's important."
"Never," he answered, and she wrote it down.
"Do you play tennis with your right hand or your left hand?"
"Oh, see here," he protested, "what's the use of——"