So occupied was I with my efforts to resuscitate my mysterious patient that I did not notice the opening of the door, and it was with something of a start that, happening to glance round, I perceived at the farther end of the room the shadowy figure of a man relieved by two spots of light reflected from his spectacles. How long he had been watching me I cannot say, but, when he saw that I had observed him, he came forward⁠—though not very far⁠—and I saw that he was Mr. Weiss.

“I am afraid,” he said, “that you do not find my friend so well tonight?”

“So well!” I exclaimed. “I don’t find him well at all. I am exceedingly anxious about him.”

“You don’t⁠—er⁠—anticipate anything of a⁠—er⁠—anything serious, I hope?”

“There is no need to anticipate,” said I. “It is already about as serious as it can be. I think he might die at any moment.”