further discussion of the matter, we went to the Annex to see Ricori.
There were two new guards on watch at his door. They arose politely and spoke to us pleasantly. We
entered softly. Ricori had slipped out of the drug into a natural sleep. He was breathing easily, peacefully,
in deep and healing slumber.
His room was a quiet one at the rear, overlooking a little enclosed garden. Both my houses are
old-fashioned, dating back to a more peaceful New York; sturdy vines of Virginia creepers climb up
them both at front and back. I cautioned the nurse to maintain utmost quiet, arranging her light so that it
would cast only the slightest gleam upon Ricori. Going out, I similarly cautioned the guards, telling them
that their chief's speedy recovery might depend upon silence.
It was now after six. I asked Braile to stay for dinner, and afterward to drop in on my patients at the