"We are only taking a constitutional," Kelson explained. "We shall be
back in five minutes."
They crossed the road to the statue, and were deliberating which
direction to take, when they heard a groan.
"It's only some poor devil of a tramp," Kelson said. "The benches are
full of them--they stay here all night. We had better, perhaps, turn
back."
"Nonsense!" Lilian Rosenberg replied. "I'm not a bit afraid. There's
another groan. I'm going to see what's up," and before he could stop
her she had disappeared in the darkness. "Here I am," she called;
"come, it's some one ill."
Plunging on, in the darkness, Kelson at last found Lilian. She was
sitting on a chair under a tree, by the side of a man, who was lying,
curled up, on the ground.
"He's had nothing to eat for two days, and has Bright's Disease,"
Lilian Rosenberg announced. "Can't we do something for him?"
"Two gentlemen told me just now," the man on the ground groaned, "that
if I stayed here for a couple of hours--they would pass by again and
guarantee to cure me. I reckoned there was no cure for Bright's
Disease, when it is chronic, like it is in my case; but they laughed,
and said, 'We can--or at least--shall be able to cure anything.'"
"What were the two gentlemen like?" Kelson asked.
"How could I tell?" the man moaned. "I couldn't see their faces any
more than I can see yours--but they talked like you. Twang--twang--
twang--all through their noses.
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