She awoke in the darkness with a start, trembling in every limb—to hear a lone hound howling from the stable.
CHAPTER XLII
THE MENDED ROAD
Dr. Ivany, the great Hungarian specialist, adept in the delicate adventurings of brain surgery, ceased his examination and refastened the light bandage upon his patient's head with a look of satisfaction.
"But yes," he said, in his concise French, "it goes well. I release you from my care, Monsieur. One thing, however, you must remember. No excitation. No anger. No prolonged mental labour for some months to come. Otherwise—the tiniest hemorrhage in the affected area—and all my surgery could not undo the damage again."
The spruce young secretary who stood at Craig's side translated.
"All right," said Craig. "Tell him I'm much obliged." He shook hands with the great man without emotion, and when the door had closed upon the latter he got upon his feet. "Have you arranged the rooms at the hotel?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then get me out of here. The sooner the better."