“I gotta.”

“To-morrow? To-morrow’s Sunday, little missy. There’s a swell lot of country I bet you ain’t never seen, and Old Doc Strauss is going to tell you to get acquainted with it pretty soon.”

“Country?”

“Yes. That’s what you need, outdoors; that’s what you need, little missy. You got a color like all indoors—pretty, but putty.”

“You—you don’t think there’s nothing much the matter with me, do you, Mr. Blaney?”

“Sure I don’t. Why, I got a bunch of Don’ts for you up my sleeve that’ll color you up like drug-store daub.”

Tears and laughter trembled in her voice.

“You mean that the outdoor stuff will do it, Mr. Blaney?”

“That’s the talk!”

“But you—you ain’t the doctor.”