The doctor and another man were by his bedside when they entered the room, and there were writing materials which had evidently been used close at hand. ’ ‘No, miss,’ cut in Kimble. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. How to hold her, how to keep her at his side; this was the problem with which he struggled. Wanting his coat, when he must have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had cost him something. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. "I am come to render you a service.
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