"So he's going to South America, after all," mused Roger. "I thought he'd given it up."
"Why should you think that?" she demanded quickly. "He must do something to make a living."
He was not listening, his thoughts busy again with the question of why, if Esther had not gone off with Holliday, she had failed to communicate with him? In one way he felt slightly relieved, yet the business was as mysterious as ever.
"Roger," Thérèse said suddenly, sitting down on the side of the bed, "I believe you are still worrying about that nurse. Isn't that so?"
He was silent, unwilling to discuss the matter with Thérèse. Yet, in spite of himself, something in her tone made him look at her attentively.
"If I were you," she continued slowly, "I shouldn't think too much about her. I feel I ought to tell you that."
His eyes flashed at her a belligerent glance.
"Just what do you mean by that?" he demanded.
"I hadn't meant to tell you," she went on with slight hesitation. "But you know I had a reason for sending her away yesterday. If it hadn't been for the fact that your father seemed to like her so much the doctor would have made a change some little time ago. He wasn't altogether … pleased with her."
"Pleased with her! What are you getting at?"