‘Ah yes!’ he hummed in a deep nasal tone, which Paul knew well already as being characteristic of him when he had to reason out a problem as he talked. ‘Monsieur Armstrong, the man who has half-confidences with his physician is in serious error.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Paul.
‘You know of nothing,’ said Laurent, ‘which would help to explain these symptoms apart from the fact that madame believes herself to be about to become a mother?’
‘Nothing else,’ Paul answered in some astonishment, ‘Unless——’
Laurent, holding up his bowl in both hands, echoed:
‘Sinon?——’
‘Well,’ said Paul, ‘I’m afraid that I may have been a little neglectful lately. I have a piece of work in hand which occupies me a great deal. I may, perhaps, be too absorbed in it.’
‘That, of course, is perhaps possible,’ said Laurent ‘I will contrive to see her in the course of the day, and you may trust an old doctor’s savoir faire. She shall not guess that you sent me.’
Immediately upon this the doctor’s servant rapped at the door to say that all was ready, and Paul took his leave. He went immediately to his study, and there the embers of last night’s fire, being fanned ever so little, began to glow again, and he became absorbed in his work, insomuch that when the bell rang for déjeûner at noon he was amazed to notice how quickly time had flown. When he got to table Annette was in her place, still looking a trifle pale and heavy-eyed, but evidently much relieved since he had last seen her.
‘I want you to do me a little favour, Paul,’ she said