Her memory was a complete void; the business of Roger's thumb had routed everything else.
"Are you quite sure——" she faltered.
"Sure!" he repeated sharply, and with a gesture of annoyance. "I tell you you had it in your hand when you bolted out of the room. There is no question about it."
"Then I must have laid it down somewhere. I'll look for it in just a moment."
She was washing the basin at the bath.
"You'll look now."
She glanced quickly at him, amazed at his peremptory manner. Never before had any doctor spoken to her in that fashion. Besides, how could he be angry over such a trifle?
"Certainly, doctor."
She spoke calmly, hiding her wounded dignity, and without more ado hastened back to the boudoir, now empty. Where could she have put the wretched thing? It was true she had had it in her hand, she recollected that much now, but nothing more. She made a thorough search, disagreeably aware that the doctor kept coming to the doorway and watching her.
"There's no sign of it here, doctor. I'll look in my bedroom. I went there to get my first-aid."