"It would be heavenly! But do I dare?"
She glanced at Miss Clifford.
"Why on earth not, my dear? When you're off duty, your time's your own. You needn't stay very late, if you're afraid of over-sleeping in the morning."
"Well, then, I will," Esther promised, her eyes shining with pleasure.
"Good girl! We'll have a regular beano. We both need it."
In the seclusion of her room that night Esther took out her best new evening gown, bought in Paris, and examined it with satisfaction. She had worn it only once; it had been a present from Miss Ferriss. Layers of filmy chiffon, peach-coloured, it presented a delectable picture as she spread it out on the bed. There was a shaggy diaphanous flower of silver gauze to wear on the shoulder, and the shoes that went with it were silver kid, well cut and severe.
"It is adorable," she sighed gloatingly, as she fingered the delicate mass. "What luck to have it here where there are so many smart dresses!"
She held it up in front of the mirror. Yes, this shade of pink suited her perfectly; it brought out the bronze tones in her hair and heightened the rose in her cheeks.
"I wonder if he likes me, too," she mused. "Or if I'm merely something to dance with? Never mind, it doesn't matter. I do need a little gaiety. I hope the doctor won't object—but why should he? I'm not going to neglect my job. Still, he might; he's queer. That's the worst of having the doctor living in the house. Such a nuisance!"
She spent halt an hour manicuring her nails and then, still feeling wide-awake, decided on a bath. The bathroom was between her room and the doctor's. On entering she found it, as usual, so stiflingly hot that she was obliged to throw open the casement window and let the cool, moist air steal into the room. For several minutes she leaned out, breathing in the night odours of the dark garden. With them came a heavier odour that was familiar, the acrid, pungent smell of the doctor's tobacco. By it she could tell that he, too, had his window open; he was sitting close to it, reading and smoking. She had no idea how he spent his evenings, but when she came to bed his light was always on. What an odd, self-contained, saturnine creature he was! There was something so ponderous, so logical, so crushing about him. Yes, that described him best, crushing. She always felt that he was ready to flatten her out….