But all through dinner Thurso achieved the outward signs of inward well-being, and it was through no remissness or failure on his part, but by instinct born of intimate knowledge on Maud’s, that she knew he was going through hells of physical torture. Sometimes he just bit his lip or suddenly stroked his long moustache; sometimes in the middle of a sentence he would make a pause that was scarcely noticeable, as if he but considered for a word; sometimes he gripped knife and fork so that the skin over his knuckles showed white; but that was all. He talked quite easily and naturally, made reference to Maud’s poaching expedition, and its satisfactory results as far as dinner was concerned, for the salmon was excellent, and went on to speak of the epidemic which had brought them both up North.
“But at last it shows some sign of abating,” he said, “though we are still ignorant of the source of it. In fact, there has been no fresh case either to-day or yesterday.”
Maud looked up at Mr. Cochrane, wishing rather intently that he would preach his gospel. She felt that it might do Thurso good, or, at any rate, take his mind off the pain that flickered round him like a shower of daggers. But the gospel was veiled, at any rate.
“I think it is so good of you to bring the cases up here,” he said. “Lady Maud told me yesterday that you were doing so. I am sure it must help towards recovery to remove people from surroundings which they associate with illness to fresh, bright places.”
He paused a moment.
“One sees that every day,” he said. “If you associate a place with pleasure, you are pleased to go there again. The mind, left to itself, clings so strongly to material things. If one has been happy in a certain room, one thinks that those surroundings will tend to produce happiness again. It is one of the illusions we get rid of last.”
Thurso began to speak.
“You mean,” he said, and then stopped, for an access of pain so sharp seized him that he could not get on.
Maud saw, and gave him a sudden quick look of sympathy, which annoyed him, and, for the first time, Cochrane saw too. But after a moment he recovered himself, and went on.
“You mean I shall always associate this house with typhoid and sick, suffering people?” he asked. “That is not very cheering.”