'That's just it, Edith. I doubt if your husband is in a fit state of health to strain his mind by any more work than he does already. He's not strong, dear; remember that.'
'Of course, I know; if he were all right he wouldn't be here,' said
Edith.' I suppose he really does suffer a great deal.'
'What was it again that prevented him joining?' asked Madame Frabelle, with sympathetic tenderness.
'Neurotic heart,' answered Edith. Though she tried her very utmost she could not help the tone of her voice sounding a little dry and ironical. Of course, she did not in the least believe in Bruce's neurotic heart, but she did not want Madame Frabelle to know that.
'Ah! ah! that must cause him a great deal of pain, but I think so far his worst symptoms are his nervous fears. Look at last night,' continued Madame Frabelle, and now she put down her knitting and folded it into her work-basket.' Last night, because there was no moon, and it wasn't raining, and fairly clear, Mr Ott—Bruce had absolutely made up his mind there would be a Zeppelin raid. It was his own idea.'
'Not quite, dear. Young Coniston, who is a special constable, rang up and told him that there was a chance of the Zeppelins last night.'
'Well, perhaps so. At any rate he believed it. Well, instead of being satisfied when I told him that I had got out my mask, that I saw to the bath being left half-filled with water, helped your husband to put two large bags of sand outside his dressing-room—in spite of all that, do you know what happened in the middle of the night?'
'I'm afraid I don't,' said Edith. 'Since Archie went back to school I have had Dilly in my room, and we both slept soundly all night.'
'Did you? I fancied I saw a light in your room.'
This was quite true. Edith was writing a very long letter.