furniture. Only three small rugs lay on the floor. At the head of the bed a man stood watching. The Archduchess was on her knees, her face pressed to her husband's body, and she sobbed violently.
The Archduke Leopold looked at Reggie, made a gesture towards her, and said, "My dear Ianthe!"
She looked up flushed and tear-stained.
"I beg your pardon, madame. This is dangerous to the patient," Reggie said.
She gave a stifled cry and rushed out of the room.
The Archduke Leopold seemed to intend to stay, but in a moment the voice of the Archduchess was heard calling for him. "Better go to her, sir. Keep her out of here," Reggie said, and turned to his patient. It was obvious that the Archduke did not relish so brusque an order. But the passionate voice was not to be denied.
The man by the bed and Reggie took each other's measure. "English?" said Reggie.
"Yes, sir. Holt, I am. The Archduke's valet."
"You undressed him?"
"Yes, sir. Was that wrong?"
"Depends how you did it." Reggie began his examination.
The Archduke Maurice was a big man. That is a habit in his family. He had their fairness, but even in coma his cheeks showed more colour than his brother Leopold's, and his yellow hair and beard
