"But as a man?"
"I don't believe he is a man, quite," she laughed. "At least, one can't exactly think of him as one."
"That's how he strikes me. Yet I suppose no one can be as phlegmatic as he seems; there must be a spark of enthusiasm in him somewhere."
"Oh, but there is! Don't you know? He absolutely lives for research; it's the one thing he takes an interest in. He practises medicine to make a living, but he devotes every spare minute to hunting for anti-toxins."
"Does he indeed? I know my aunt thinks very highly of him, but I'm glad you do, too. Your opinion is worth something."
The time passed with amazing quickness, as they discovered when they consulted their watches.
"Must you go back at once?" Roger asked as he tentatively reversed the car and slowly headed for home.
"I don't want to be late," she said with a sigh. "It's my first case here; I must be on my best behaviour! But—I've just thought of something. Would it be very far out of our way if we went to the doctor's villa in the Route de Grasse? I left my French lesson-books there, and I'd like to fetch them."
"We can do it easily; only show me the house."
Before long they came in sight of the villa, which looked as tidy, as smug and non-committal as it had done when she first approached it some weeks ago. Alighting quickly from the car, Esther rang the bell and waited, expecting momentarily to see the friendly Jacques answer the summons. There was, however, no response.