"If you get enough of anything," said Beatrice, "the poor souls under your care can have some of it, can't they?"
"Certainly."
"What do you expect to get around here?"
"Oh, lots of things. Wild ginger, for instance—would you like some of that?"
"Don't care for it," she answered conclusively.
"Would you like a concoction of May apples?"
"I believe I would—it sounds well."
"My dear girl," said Norton, seriously, "the root of the mandrake is such a deadly poison that the Indians give it to their enemies."
"I must remember that," murmured the girl. "I may need it for mine."
The Doctor laughed, then turned to Mrs. Howard. "Are you well?" he asked anxiously.