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A Touch of the Sun
erties, and sipped docilely. Deane made sundry preparations, whistling softly through his teeth. The lamplight cast grotesque shadows behind him as he moved.
"Now, get yourself to bed as quick as you know how," he ordered. "In ten minutes you'll be asleep and warranted not to dream."
"But where are you going to sleep?" his patient asked, rising.
"Never mind about me," Deane said with decision.
Still docile, Holloway got himself to bed, drawing the blanket to his chin. He gave a long sigh of comfort, as he watched Deane moving to and fro, like a child that feels itself secure against unknown terrors of the dark in the company
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