“Yes. The room is too warm, and I think it is time for the rubbing.”
“Not for fifteen minutes,” Nancy answered calmly. “I told you I would be back in time.”
“Yes. But it is so warm here.”
“Why didn’t you call Madame Gagnier to open a window?”
“Because she is so very clumsy. Please open it now.”
Nancy repressed a sudden longing to cross the room on her heels. Barth was sitting up, that day; but the lines around his lips and the brilliant patch of scarlet on either cheek betrayed the fact that the past two days had worn upon him.
“Is your foot aching now?” she asked, as she returned to her seat.
“Yes, intensely. Do you suppose that doctor knows how to treat it?”
Nancy’s eyes flashed.
“He ought to,” she answered shortly.