“Indeed,” said the student reflectively. “Is she over there in the city, or here in the Necropolis?”
“Here. She is in fact the daughter of a paraschites.”
“Of a paraschites?” exclaimed Nebsecht, once more slipping the rabbit under the table, “then I will go.”
“You curious fellow. I believe you expect to find something strange among the unclean folk.”
“That is my affair; but I will go. What is the man’s name?”
“Pinem.”
“There will be nothing to be done with him,” muttered the student, “however—who knows?”
With these words he rose, and opening a tightly closed flask he dropped some strychnine on the nose and in the mouth of the rabbit, which immediately ceased to breathe. Then he laid it in a box and said, “I am ready.”
“But you cannot go out of doors in this stained dress.”
The physician nodded assent, and took from a chest a clean robe, which he was about to throw on over the other! but Pentaur hindered him. “First take off your working dress,” he said laughing. “I will help you. But, by Besa, you have as many coats as an onion.”