"God!" he whispered, "I can't stand that!"
When he came back, for he could not stay away, Marian met him in the middle of the room, her flushed face and dilated eyes raised to his.
"Steve—he's growing excited. He's wearing himself out. Go for Frank!"
Earle looked beyond her at the bed. The cheeks were crimson, the eyes half closed; through the narrowed slits they burned upward like fire. Earle turned to the doctor.
"What about it?"
"How long will it take, Mr. Earle?"
"Two hours."
"Yes—I should go—right away!"
Earle crossed the room to the nurse sitting beside the bed. "It won't matter?" he asked. "It won't excite him?"
She shook her head.