What
are you smiling about?"
"Smelling salts," Quin murmured, as if to himself.
"You don't need any smelling salts!" cried Madam, missing his allusion.
"All you need is to rouse yourself and put your mind on what I am saying.
Do you remember living in this house?"
He could not truthfully say that he did, though familiar objects and
sounds seemed to be all around him.
"Well, I'll make you," said Madam, nothing daunted. "You stayed in this
very room for three months to keep the burglars from stealing Isobel and
Enid, and every night you walked me up and down the hall on my crutches."
She paused and looked at him expectantly; but things were still a blur to
him.
"You surely remember the Easter party?" she persisted. "If you can forget
the way your shirt kept popping open that night, and the way your jaw
swelled up, it's more than I can!"
Quin winced. Even concussion of the brain had failed to deaden the memory
of that awful night.
"I sort of remember," he admitted.
"Good! That will do for to-day. As for the rest, I'll tell you what
happened. You came here one night two weeks ago, when everybody had me
dead and buried, and you deviled me into having an operation that saved
my life.
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