The doctor suggested a hospital; such a case, he said, needed constant nursing and care.
"Unless you are well enough off to have a nurse to help you," and he tried not to look doubtfully around him at the big bare studio, "I should think you had better try and get rid of the responsibility of this hopeless case by putting him into one of the English or American hospitals here. You are American, are n't you?"
"I have plenty of money," said Val, leaving his question unanswered, "and am quite able to have help in nursing him here. Please give me full instructions and information."
The doctor looked surprised, and more so when, after he had examined Valdana, she paid him his fee and took down the address of the best cancer specialist in Paris.
"Not that he can do any good. The case is too far advanced for operation--even I can tell you that. But he will be able to give the best treatment for alleviation until the end comes--that won't be long, I expect."
And the great specialist could do no more (as is more often the case than people guess) than confirm the verdict of the ordinary practitioner.
"A matter of months!" he said. "And they will be bad months--for others beside the patient. You had better send him to a hospital."
But Val shook her head. She had determined to accept this duty that was so clear to her; and there was money now to ease the way. Seventy-five thousand pounds! How neatly that sum had been inserted into the gap of circumstance by the clever hand of Fate!
CHAPTER XX
THE WAYS OF LIFE AND DEATH