She was too deeply humiliated to think very clearly, and yet, sitting there on her trunk, she felt her attention drawn by this new idea. What if it was true that Lady Clifford was afraid to have her in the house? She had not had time properly to consider this fresh possibility when a knock came at the door.
"Who is it? Come in," she called indifferently.
She expected one of the servants, come to inquire about taking her luggage down, and, consequently, she was unprepared when the door opened to reveal the big, stolid bulk of the doctor. His slow-moving eyes glanced about the little room, taking in her preparations for departure. When he spoke it was in a tone unexpectedly agreeable.
"I thought of inquiring, Miss Rowe, what plans you have for the immediate future? Is it your intention to go back at once to New York?"
"I don't think so, doctor, but really I don't quite know what I'm going to do."
He nodded and cleared his throat slightly.
"I think I have mentioned to you that for the present I do not intend to resume my practice. I mean to take a short holiday instead, so you of course understand that I shall not require your services."
"Oh, perfectly, doctor," she replied quickly, sure that her voice must betray the irony she felt. As if she cared, indeed, whether he wanted her or not!
"I take it, then, that you may remain in Cannes for some time. Have you any friends here?"
Really! She had never before discovered his taking any interest in anyone's personal affairs. What had come over him? She replied with a certain reserve: