She could not
see any need now for this subterfuge, and it annoyed her. But the
freckled little Napoleon of the moors was not a man to be lightly
disobeyed. He walked to the door, opened and closed it; then
returned to the bedside, drew up a chair, and sat down.
"Now, Mr. Dalmain," he said.
Garth sat up and turned towards him eagerly.
Then, for the first time, Jane saw his face.
"Doctor," he said, "tell me about this nurse. Describe her to me."
The tension in tone and attitude was extreme. His hands were clasped
in front of him, as if imploring sight through the eyes of another.
His thin white face, worn with suffering, looked so eager and yet so
blank.
"Describe her to me, doctor," he said; "this Nurse Rosemary Gray, as
you call her."
"But it is not a pet name of mine, my dear sir," said Dr. Rob
deliberately. "It is the young lady's own name, and a pretty one,
too. 'Rosemary for remembrance.' Is not that Shakespeare?"
"Describe her to me," insisted Garth, for the third time.
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