"But he won't come," I interrupted. "I know these hard-minded young asses. When a lad is set on being stubborn——"
"Will you go to work on him if I can get him here?" interjected Nella.
"Of a certitude, Mademoiselle."
"You won't think me forward or unmaidenly?"
"This is a medical consultation, Mademoiselle."
"All right; be in the office this time tomorrow night. I'll have my wandering boy friend here if I have to bring him in an ambulance."
er performance matched her promise almost too closely for our comfort. We had just finished dinner next night when the frenzied shriek of tortured brakes, followed by a crash and the tinkling spatter of smashed glass, sounded in the street before the house, and in a moment feet dragged heavily across the porch. We were at the door before the bell could buzz, and in the disk of brightness sent down by the porch light saw Nella bent half double, stumbling forward with a man's arm draped across her shoulders. His feet scuffed blindly on the boards, as though they had forgot the trick of walking, or as if all strength had left his knees. His head hung forward, lolling drunkenly; a spate of blood ran down his face and smeared his collar.
"Good Lord!" I gasped. "What——"