"Yes, son?"
"Is it true that you've got a medical degree as well as a legal one?" "Yes. That's right."
"Then," said Sharpless, running a finger round inside his khaki shirt-collar, "will you for God's sake come down and have a look at Vicky? Now?"
The summer evening was very still.
"What's wrong with her?"
"I don't know. I've phoned for her own doctor, but he lives at the other side of town. And she's worrying me more every minute. First she complained of stiffness in the back of the neck. Then a funny feeling in her jaws, painful. Then — she wouldn't let me send for a doctor; but I insisted — then—"
All expression was smoothed out of H.M.'s face. He adjusted his spectacles, and looked steadily through them. Yet Courtney caught the wave of emotion in the air, as palpably as the body gives out heat; and that emotion was fear.
H.M.'s tone was wooden. "How long has this been goin' on, son?"
"About an hour."
"Lookin' a bit seedy all day, has she?"