"Not the true unfortunates. How men suffer for the foolish things they do!"
"Ay to that. There's our young friend upstairs."
"There's a funny idea in my head. I've been thinking about it ever since morning. There was a loose button on that coat, and I want to sew it on. It keeps dangling in front of my eyes."
"Ah, yes; that coat. Probably a sick man's whim. Certainly, there wasn't a thing in the pockets. But be very careful not to let him know. If he awoke and caught you at it, there might be a set-back. By the way, what did he say when he was out of his head?"
"The word 'Fool.' He muttered it continually. There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. I wonder what he meant by that?"
"The Lord knows!"
The patient was restless during the first watch of the night. He stirred continually, thrusting his legs about and flinging his arms above his head. Gently each time Ruth drew down the arms. There was a recurrence of fever, but nothing alarming. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down.
"Ali Baba, in a blue-serge coat!… God-forsaken fool!"
CHAPTER XIII
One day Ruth caught the patient's eyes following her about; but there was no question in the gaze, no interest; so she pretended not to notice.