'Unfortunate for all of us.'
'Particularly for you. You were subjecting him to rather vigorous treatment. Better men have been killed by less.'
I turned and faced him, not feeling disposed to be brow-beaten by him.
'Foster, what do you mean?'
'Weren't you shaking him?'
'Shaking him! Foster! I was simply placing him in a more comfortable position.'
'Ah! And this is the position you have placed him in.'
'Your words and tone, Mr. Foster, require explanation.'
'Which they shall receive at the proper time and place. In the meantime, don't you think you'd better send for a doctor? Or shall I?'
Luckily Mr. Babbacombe proved himself to be possessed of more sense than I had begun to fear. He returned to life. Whether actuated or not by the newcomer's remarks and manner I cannot say; but he did. Just as we seemed to be on the verge of a really unseemly wrangle, without altering his position in the least, he opened his eyes, looked up at us, and spoke.