"Oh, thank you!" Concierges were marvellous persons.
As soon as she had gone again the concierge made all the pages tremble. It was the thwarted desire to kneel at Lilian's feet and kiss her divine shoes that caused him to terrorize the pages.
As for telegraphing to Miss Grig, she decided that obviously she could send no message till the doctor had examined and reported. In regard to the hotel authorities and servants she now had no shame. She alone was responsible for Felix's welfare, and she would be responsible, and they must all think what they liked about her relations with him. She did not care.
The concierge was indeed marvellous, for in less than twenty minutes there was a knock at Felix's door. Lilian opened, saw a professional face with hair half sandy, half grey, and, turning to Felix, murmured:
"It's the doctor, darling."
Felix, to whom she had audaciously said not a word about sending for a doctor, actually sat up, furious.
"I'm not going to see a doctor," he gasped. "I'm not going to see any doctor."
"Come in, doctor, please."
The moment was dramatic. Felix of course was beaten.
"You'll find me in the next room, doctor," she said, after a minute, and the doctor bowed. In another ten minutes the doctor entered her bedroom.