When the doctor came to make his last visit before the night, he looked grave.
“Has he had any lucid intervals?” he asked.
She told him what had happened earlier in the evening.
“It's hard to tell,” he said, “whether that was dreams or not.”
As he started to go, she asked,—
“Did they tell you downstairs that some one had been here to see him?”
He shook his head.
“He came while I was down in the office, and they said he had been here two or three times before. He wanted to see Mr. Bridge, he said, on a very important business matter.”
The doctor smiled. “I'm afraid,” he said, “that business will be indefinitely postponed. Who was the man?”
“He's one of our aldermen, Michael Blaney.”