"What did you do, Patricia?"
"I fed him."
"Did he really eat?"
"Like a starved cat."
"Hm-m-m," said Beth. "What next, I wonder?"
Patsy wondered, too, the cold shivers chasing one another up and down her back. The boy was coming toward them, coolly puffing a cigar. He did not seem to totter quite so much as before, but he was glad to sink into an easy chair.
"How do you feel?" asked Beth, regarding him curiously.
"Like one of those criminals who are pampered with all the good things of life before being led to the scaffold."
"Any pains?"
He shook his head.