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Updated: May 20, 2025
'What do you think, Peters? I said: 'any more pains? 'Well, perhaps you had better give us another quarter, he answered: 'there's still some trouble in the tummy off and on. 'A quarter-grain, then, Clodagh, 'I said. As she opened the syringe-box, she remarked with a pout: 'Our patient has been naughty! He has taken some more atropine. I became angry at once.
At the moment, Clodagh was about to administer a dose to Peters; but seeing me, she put down the medicine-glass on the night table, and came toward me; and as she came, I saw a sight which stabbed me: for Wilson took up the deposited medicine-glass, elevated it, looked at it, smelled into it: and he did it with a kind of hurried, light-fingered stealth; and he did it with an under-look, and a meaningness of expression which, I thought, proved mistrust....
I had to traverse the distance between Harley Street and Hanover Square, and all the time it was as though something shouted at my physical ear: 'Since you go, breathe no word of the Boreal, and Clark's visit'; and another shout: 'Tell, tell, hide nothing! It seemed to last a month: yet it was only some minutes before I was in Hanover Square, and Clodagh in my arms.
Something in Peterson's manner forced her to believe that he had indeed served out his full sentence, and for the moment had nothing to fear from the police. Clodagh hid her disappointment with a little swagger. "It suits us just as well as you, to finish up at ten o'clock and get it over," she said. "If we can, we will. If we can't, you'll have to wait.
He was cheerful, but with a fevered pulse, and still the stomach-pains. I was giving him three quarter-grains of morphia a day. That Friday night, at 11 P.M., I visited him, and found Clodagh there, talking to him. Peters was smoking a cigar. 'Ah, Clodagh said, 'I was waiting for you, Adam. I didn't know whether I was to inject anything to-night. Is it Yes or No?
To you the question may be nothing more than a gambling excitement as to the final outcome of your aërial squabble: but to the poor men who had to bear the wrongs, Inquisitions, rack-rents, Waterloos, unspeakable horrors, it was hard earnest, you know! Oh the wretchedness the deep, deep pain of that bungling ant-hill, happily wiped out, my God! My sweetheart Clodagh ... she was not an ideal being!
A backward glance told her that the man had stopped facing the vestibule which gave exit from the flat. "Wait one moment," she said. "I'll see where Clodagh is." As she touched the door of the boudoir she was surprised to find it yielding before she turned the handle. This was odd, because she remembered shutting it the last time she came out.
'Peters, I cried, 'you know you have no right to be doing things like that without consulting me! Do that once more, and I swear I have nothing further to do with you! 'Rubbish, said Peters: 'why all this unnecessary heat? It was a mere flea-bite. I felt that I needed it. 'He injected it with his own hand... remarked Clodagh.
'Because Leda sounds something like Clodagh, says she, 'and you are al-leady in the habit of calling me Clodagh; and I saw the name Leda in a book, and liked it: but Clodagh is most hollible, most bitterly hollible!
I said to myself: 'I must surely be mad! An ordinary chat began, while Clodagh turned up Peters' sleeve, and, kneeling there, injected his fore-arm. As she rose, laughing at something said by Wilson, the drug-glass dropped from her hand, and her heel, by an apparent accident, trod on it. She put the syringe among a number of others on the mantel-piece. 'Your friend has been naughty, Mr.
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