She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit. I’m okay. " "What is it?" asked the poor woman. " The doctor was in the middle fifties, gray and careworn, but with alert blue eyes and a gentle mouth. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated.
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