Chapter 18 No.18

Next morning Fred Starratt knew that he was too ill to rise. Then everything became hazy. He had moments of consciousness when he sensed Storch's figure moving in a sort of mist, flashing a green smile through the gloom. He saw other figures, too--Helen Starratt, swathed in clinging black; Hilmer, displaying his mangled thumb; Monet with eyes of ge