Somewhere near at hand a door opened and closed again. Before she could decide what door it was she heard the low rumble of the doctor's voice addressing someone.
"Well," she heard him say somewhat brusquely, "what is it now?"
It was the exasperated tone one might employ to a rather tiresome child. She found herself listening idly, wondering who it was who had come into his room. A second later, with a slight shock, she recognised the unmistakable tones of Lady Clifford. As on a former occasion, she was puzzled to know how it was the doctor spoke to her in so peremptory a fashion. She could not catch the words of the Frenchwoman, but the doctor's reply was clearly audible.
"That was wrong of you," he was saying. "I distinctly told you not to try. Besides, I am sure you exaggerate the importance of it."
Lady Clifford's next speech, uttered in a querulous tone, was distinguishable, from which Esther concluded she had come closer to the window.
"But I tell you I must know the truth! I cannot rest until I find out.
Something warns me he has done something … damnable!"
"You will know soon enough."
"But, mon Dieu, when I know it will be too late!"
She seemed almost in tears. The doctor waited a little before replying, in accents of unmoved calm:
"Rubbish! How did this idea come to you?"