in a strangled whisper. "Goldenrod is the one thing that absolutely kills me with asthma. I didn't know you had it in Europe."
She sank back against the cushions with another shattering sneeze.
"The maid said you got it for me as a special compliment," she murmured huskily. "So I didn't like to throw it out."
When Herr Guadeloupe and Nyla entered the salon a few minutes later, Frau Quackenbush was stretched, an imposing contour, on the couch. On his knees beside her the remorseful Colonel, uttering frantic endearments, was pumping the atomizer into her nose and throat.
"Tell me, dear lady, do de nostrils seem any happier?" he was asking solicitously. "Hosh!" he cautioned the horrified President. "I tink she revive. She breathe more freely. Open wide, ve spray out de pharynx. De pharynx, de larynx, and all de mucous membranes. She have a dreadful attack, unspeakable."
"Gott!" ejaculated the President. "An attack? Is it assassinations, ravishings? Ach, de
