I was in to see him after breakfast.
He was sitting up in bed and getting ready to tell Doc Smith what
he thinks of him for ordering him to stay in the house till he
says he can go out. He is terribly upset because he can't get up
to Alix's to see you, Mr. Blythe. I never saw a feller so cut up
about a thing as he is."
"He must not think of coming out in this kind of weather," cried
Alix firmly. "It would be--"
"Oh, he's not thinking of coming out," interrupted Charlie quietly.
"I am sorry not to have met him," said Blythe. "We probably have
a lot of mutual friends."
A queer little light flashed into Charlie Webster's eyes and lingered
for an instant.
"He's terribly anxious to meet you. It wouldn't surprise me at all
if he got up today sometime and in spite of Doc Smith hustled over
to call on you. I'll tell you what we might do, Alix. If Mr. Blythe
isn't going to be too busy, I might take him up to see Court,--that
is, when you get back from your drive. I know he'll appreciate it,
and be tickled almost to death."
"Fine!" cried Blythe. "If you're sure he will not mind, Mr. Webster."
"Why should he mind? He says he's crazy to meet you, and he's able
to see people--"
"But I've always understood that talking was very painful to any
one suffering from pleurisy," protested Alix.
"Doesn't seem to hurt Court very much," declared Charlie.
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