At ten o'clock on this morning Captain Ablewhite, unannounced, and without knocking at the door, walked into Jeremiah's room in the hotel at which he had taken up his quarters. Jeremiah was still in bed. Closing the door carefully behind him and turning the key, Captain Ablewhite drew a chair to the side of the bed and sat down. "This is a bad business," said Captain Ablewhite. Jeremiah was in a parlous condition. His face was haggard; his eyes were bloodshot; he was shaking like a man in a palsy. "This is a bad business," repeated Captain Ablewhite, "You are too much upset to reply. But why, oh, why have you lost your head?" Jeremiah put his hand up, feebly and despairingly, and passed it vacantly over his forehead. "I have here," said Captain Ablewhite, plunging his hands into the pockets of his gorgeous dressing-gown, "a pick-me-up. It will pull you round, and then we can talk."
