37
“This is madness,” Dr. Porter grumbled. “Utterly insane. With my patient sure to be dead by morning, must we really add to the count of corpses?” They stood side by side at the edge of a small lawn set far enough from the back of the house to be out of direct view of the windows, but close enough to carry a man inside if he were unconscious. Or dead, as Dr. Porter so tactlessly predicted. Marcus stood a little ways away, muttering to himself, while Tom paced on Mal’s other side. Mal had already examined the pistols, a matched pair that Will kept in a case on the wall of his study. Mr. Thorpe, Marcus’s second, was now engaged in the same, and he set the second gun down in its case with a slow nod of approval. Dr. Porter was right. This was madness. There was something to it, though, that tr
- Writer
