“You did perfectly right to tell me, Maud. Thank you,” she said. “But it is hell—damnation, you know. What do you advise?”
“Get him to see a doctor.”
“He won’t. I suggested it to-day. And one doesn’t want to lose any time; the pace accelerates so quickly on that awful road. Poor Thurso! Of course it is desirable that I should appear to find out what you have told me for myself—find out, that is to say, that he is taking this drug.”
“You may say I told you, if necessary,” said Maud. “What are you going to do?”
“I can’t make any plan yet. I must see.”
Catherine left the room, and went down the passage to her own. Outside her husband’s dressing-room, next hers, was standing his valet, and a sudden thought occurred to her.
“Is his lordship dressed, do you know?” she asked.
“No, my lady. His lordship told me he would call me when he began,” said the man.
She went to the door, tapped, and entered.
“Flynn told me you were not dressing yet,” she said, “though both you and I will be late if we don’t begin.”