“He seems very nicely, sir, and I don’t think there is much fever.”
“Does he seem in great pain?”
“Only at times, sir, and then I bathe his temples.”
Quong looked sharply from one to the other, and began to fumble about under his blue cotton blouse till he produced from some hidden pocket a tiny thin bottle, less than my little finger, and gave it to Mr Raydon.
“Velly good,” he said, eagerly. “You sabbee? Touch velly little dlop allee long Cap Gunson head. No makee hurt then.”
“Ah, yes,” said Mr Raydon, taking the bottle. “I have seen this before;” and as Gunson just then uttered an uneasy moan, the cork was taken out, and a very tiny drop spread with a finger lightly about his temples.
“Makee seep,” said Quong, smiling. “Velly good.”
The essence certainly produced the required effect, and Quong showed his yellow teeth.
“Not muchee,” he said. “Velly lit dlop. Velly ofen? No, no.”
“I understand,” said Mr Raydon, handing back the bottle.