sang Zephania, in her piping voice. The Doctor smiled. Then he nodded sideways in the direction of the voice.
"Have you seen our host this morning?" he asked.
"No," said Eve.
"I wonder," he chuckled, "if I hadn't better go over and administer a bromide. These fashionable dinner-parties—" He shook his head eloquently.
"I don't believe he's that bad," responded Eve. "I wish you'd tell me what you think of him, Doctor."
"Mr. Herrick? Well, aside from his intemperance—"
"No, I'm in earnest, please. Afterwards I'll tell you why I ask—perhaps."
"I think him a very nice young man, Miss Eve, don't you?"
"Ye-es."
"I wouldn't call him strictly handsome; he doesn't remind me of the copper-engraved pictures of Lord Byron, who, when I was a lad, was considered the standard of masculine beauty, but he looks like a man, which is something that Byron didn't, to my thinking."