CHAPTER XXIV.
FRIENDS IN NEED.
On the Monday morning matters were so serious that Mangan telegraphed
down to Winstead; but the old doctor and his wife and Francie were
already on their way to town. When they arrived in Piccadilly, and went
into the sick-room, Lionel did not know them; most likely he merely
confused them with the crowding phantoms of his brain. He was now in a
high state of fever, but the delirium was not violent; he lay murmuring
and moaning, and it was only chance phrases they could catch--about
some one being lost--and a wide and dark sea--and so forth. Sometimes he
fancied that Nina was standing at the door, and he would appeal
piteously to her, and then sink back with a sigh, as if convinced once
more that it was only a vision. The Winstead people took apartments for
themselves at a hotel in Half-Moon Street; but of course they spent
nearly all their time in this sitting-room, where they could do little
but listen to the reports of the doctors, and wait and hope.
In the afternoon Mangan said,
"Francie, you're not used to sitting in-doors all day; won't you come
out for a little stroll in the Park over there?"
"And I'm sure you want a breath of fresh air as much as any one, Mr.
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