"If you really mean that," he returned, frowning earnestly down at her,
"I've half a mind to do it."
They moved apart as the night-nurse returned up the stairs. Esther felt slightly easier in her mind about him now. There was another thing, though. As he turned to go, she noticed that the bandage was off his right hand, and that the wound was open and bleeding again.
"That won't do," she chid him gently. "I must attend to it again before you get it infected. You really are stubborn, you know! Leave it till breakfast-time, though. Go back to bed and rest; you need it."
The day, begun so early, seemed interminable, yet there were so many things to see to that it was afternoon before she found an opportunity of carrying out her secret intention.
At last, about four o'clock, she set out in a taxi-cab to execute a number of small commissions for Miss Clifford, at whose desire she was to remain on in the house till after the funeral. The other nurse had already gone. Her errands finished, she stopped the taxi at a small chemist's shop which she had noticed before, not the one usually patronised by the Cliffords, but a smaller one about a mile away. It was neat and old-fashioned in appearance, with a row of majolica jars in the window. She went in briskly, resolved to show no nervousness and to state her request with perfect sang-froid. At any cost she must avoid the suspicion of anything out of the ordinary.
"What can I do for you, mademoiselle?"
She was relieved to find the assistant spoke English, it made it easier to explain what she wanted done. The man was a blond, pink-skinned Frenchman with half his face hidden by a curly fair beard. He eyed her indifferently while she undid the tissue-paper wrappings of her little parcel and displayed the hypodermic needle.
"I wonder if you could get this analysed for me?" she said, looking straight into his eyes with great frankness of manner. "You see there is a tiny drop of the stuff left. The doctor I am working with has reason to believe the mixture may not be quite the same he is accustomed to using."
She had prepared her speech carefully, but now she trembled within for fear it had not sounded plausible. However, the blond young man took the instrument and turned it about, examining it casually enough.
"Ah, yes, I understand. We do not ourselves make these analyses, mademoiselle, but we can of course have it done for you."