Dr. Laurier bowed slightly. Next he turned to Ricky. You could imagine him, at a desk, pushing a group of small articles carefully into line.
"In my opinion, Richard, it would be very wise if you returned home at once. Your mother is not well."
Ricky twitched up his head. "You've been over there?"
"Yes." Dr. Laurier, not moving from the doorway, fired softly from a distance. He inclined his head. "I don't know how many times I have told you that your mother has a definitely serious heart-condition. An unpleasant shock of any sort—" very slightly emphasizing the words 'of any sort,' Dr. Laurier's almost invisible pince-nez moved towards Jenny, and then Martin—"would be… most undesirable."
"Then if she heard—" Ricky checked himself. He also looked at Jenny and Martin. Wretchedness laid hold of him and shook him as though with hands.
"I’ll go straightaway," he said, and got up.
"I hope," interposed Jenny politely, "my grandmother is well?’
And this was a different girl from the timorous one of yesterday. Martin saw that with a shock of hope. Though she seemed outwardly placid, her breast rose and fell under the white blouse.
"Your grandmother, Lady Jennifer," Dr. Laurie r returned her smile, "is in excellent health. She was a bit disappointed, however…"
Jenny's tone expressed immense surprise. "Were you at the Manor too?"