Dr. Stone says: 'Well, well, well! I wish that all my patients could live in lighthouses!' and then they come home again."
"That seems indefinite," said Joan. "Where does this doctor live? In that chaotic town where I came from hundreds of years ago?"
"Worse," said Jim; "he lives in what is called by Quimpaug folk 'The City.' You have to take the Pettasantuck at 6:37 a.m. If you're lucky, you return by her at 5:10 p.m., several hours in villainous trains and hectic trolley-cars having intervened. Let's get to bed betimes to-night; it means a beastly early start."
The next morning broke wanly through a dripping fog. Joan, who came into see if the travelers were ready, found Elspeth with a raging headache.
"I don’t know what to do!" said Elspeth faintly. "I never have headaches. But I can't stir; it's simply impossible. Jim can't go, because of the fog. I've told him that he'll just have to telegraph that we can't come, though it's not the twenty-four hours' notice Dr. Stone demands."
