The trace of innocent emotion in her voice moved him.

“I am really not ill,” he said unsteadily.  “I cannot let you think I am—­”

“Don’t speak that way, Mr. Carden.  I—­I am perfectly miserable over it; I don’t feel any happiness in my discovery now—­not the least bit.  I had rather live my entire life without seeing one case of Lamour’s Disease than to believe you are afflicted with it.”

“But I’m not, Miss Hollis!—­really, I am not—­”

She looked at him compassionately for a moment, then rose.

“It is best that you should be informed as to your probable condition,” she said.  “In Lamour’s works, volume nine, you had better read exactly what Lamour says.  Do you mind coming to the office with me, Mr. Carden?”

“Now?”

“Yes.  The book is there.  Do you mind coming?”

“No—­no, of course not.”  And, as they turned away together under the trees:  “You don’t intend to begin observing me this afternoon, do you?” he ventured.

“I think it best if you can arrange your affairs.  Can you, Mr. Carden?”

“Why, yes, I suppose I can.  Did you mean for me to begin to occupy that surgical bedroom at once?”

“Do you mind?”

“N-no.  I’ll telephone my servants to pack a steamer trunk and send it around to your apartment this evening.  And—­where am I to board?”

“I have a dining room,” she said simply.  “My apartment consists of the usual number of servants and rooms, including my office, and my observation ward which you will occupy.”

He walked on, troubled.

“I only w-want to ask one or two things, Dr. Hollis.  Am I to be placed on a diet?  I hate diets!”

“Not at once.”

“May I smoke?”

“Certainly,” she said, smiling.

“And you won’t p-put me—­send me to bed too early?”

“Oh, no!  The later you sit up the better, because I shall wish to take your temperature every ten minutes and I shall feel very sorry to arouse you.”

“You mean you are coming in to wake me up every ten minutes and put that tube in my mouth?” he asked, aghast.

“Only every half-hour, Mr. Carden.  Can’t you stand it for a week?”

“Well,” he said, “I—­I suppose I can if you can.  Only, upon my honor, there is really nothing the matter with me, and I’ll prove it to you out of your own book.”

“I wish you could, Mr. Carden.  I should be only too happy to give you back to the world with a clear bill of health if you can convince me I am wrong.  Do you not believe me?  Indeed, indeed I am not selfish and wicked enough to wish you this illness, no matter how rare it is!”

“The rarer a disease is the madder it makes people who contract it,” he said.  “I should be the maddest man in Manhattan if I really did have Lamour’s malady.  But I haven’t.  There is only one malady afflicting me, and I am waiting for a suitable opportunity to tell you all about it, but—­”