And because he knew it was a burden, there was no gaiety upon the doctor's face; neither was there speech on his tongue. I could make away with him at once, as you are about to make away with your nephew, Sir Rowland,—but that wouldn't serve my turn. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. We had not then recovered from the shock. As it is, we've only a couple of ducks—and they were intended for you. I’ve told you that practically already. Wood had been my father, as well as yours.
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