Most of the stories and sketches in this book have appeared in the Morning Post. One of them was published in the Westminster Gazette. I have to thank the editors and proprietors concerned for their kindness in allowing me to republish them.
ey've put me off!" he said. "Or it was a mistake. I knew it was too good to be true."
"It's not that," said Tina, "it's Carlo!" Carlo was their little boy, who was nearly four years old.
"What?" said Margaritis.
Tina dragged him into their little sitting-room. "He is ill," she said, "very ill, and I don't know what's the matter with him."
Margaritis turned pale. "Let me see him," he said. "We must get a doctor."
"The doctor is coming: I went for him at once," she said. And then they walked on tiptoe into the bedroom where Carlo was lying in his cot, tossing about, and evidently in a raging fever. Half an hour later the doctor came. Margaritis and Tina waited, silent and trembling with anxiety, while he examined the child. At last he came from the bedroom with a grave face. He said that the child was very seriously ill, but that if he got through the night he would very probably recover.
"I must send a telegram," said Margaritis to Tina. "I cannot possibly go." Tina sq