"Well, well," murmured Laurie, "this is interesting! Odd I didn't notice it before."
Whatever "it" was, he gave his whole attention to it now. Leaning forward, he ostentatiously studied Bangs, with an expression at once indulgent and amazed.
"A flush on his cheek, too," he mused aloud.
"Shut up!" Bangs clenched his teeth, while the flush deepened.
"Easily irritated; respiration slightly irregular, all the familiar symptoms."
"For God's sake, Laurie, don't be an ass!" begged Bangs.
"All the familiar symptoms—of a heavy cold," murmured Laurie, sympathetically. "A hot bath and a dose of quinine might help at this stage. But if it gets worse—" Laurie reflected, anxiously shaking his head—"if it gets worse I'll send for Sonya," he finished brightly.
He rose, dodged the roll Rodney hurled at him, and strolled out of the room, opening the door again to add an afterthought that suddenly occurred to him.
"Don't risk your life by going to the hotel, old man," he added, kindly. "Take your quinine, and I will call on Sonya."
"She'll tell us whether or not to cable for Warren," repeated Bangs, with great dignity.