"I have not had an adequate opportunity of judging."
"Yes, yes, I quite understand the difficulty you were placed in. Very annoying, very annoying! With your permission, then, I will try to see what it is all about."
During this polite interchange Roger had difficulty in restraining his impatience. It seemed possible that Esther might perish while these two medical men discussed the situation. He watched tensely while the little doctor got out various instruments and bottles, changed his thick pince-nez for a pair of spectacles with tortoiseshell rims exactly matching his eyebrows, and finally proceeded with a maddening deliberation to study the patient, listening at her heart, feeling her pulse, turning back her eyelids. At last he raised a grave face.
"How long has this condition lasted?" he asked, frowning.
"About twenty minutes, I should say."
The Frenchman pursed his lips and shook his head slightly as he proceeded with the examination. Roger grew more and more alarmed. Thinking to facilitate matters, he pointed out the holes in the coat-sleeve.
"What do you make of those, doctor?" he demanded.
The bristling brows rose in astonishment.
"Ah, ah?" their owner exclaimed, sliding the two sleeves deftly off the shoulder and scrutinising the red dots on the skin, round which a bruise was beginning to form. "Tiens, tiens, this begins to be more clear. Doctor," he said, turning to Sartorius, "had you any suspicion that this young woman was addicted to the use of a drug?"
Roger glanced searchingly at the man by the fireplace. The sallow face showed no alteration whatever.