"Don't you think that might have thrown him into this state?"
"I think not, madam."
Sophy was silent for another moment, looking down at her ringless hands which she had clasped tightly together again. Then she looked up at Gaynor. His face was as noncommittal as that of a diplomatist negotiating a difficult matter. Yet she saw knowledge in that face, a possession of facts that was hidden from her.
"What sort of doctor do you think should be called in? A specialist?"
"That would seem best, madam."
"What kind of specialist?"
"A nerve-specialist, I should think, madam."
Sophy continued to look at him curiously. At last she said:
"You know, Gaynor, if Mr. Chesney were to find out that you had proposed this it would probably cost you your place!"
"That must be as it may be, madam."