The doctor shook his head.
“I think it would be a damned bad idea,” he answered. “Now, look here, young fellow,” he went on, putting his hand on Gregory’s shoulder, “how old are you?”
“Thirty-one.”
“If at your time of life,” the doctor continued, “you once begin to give way to what your brain and real consciousness tell you is an idea, you’ll be a victim to what they call ‘nerves’ all your life. You’ve never been affected before like this, have you?”
“Never,” Gregory declared earnestly. “One doesn’t want to talk about oneself, but I got my medals in France, and a jolly close shave of the big thing. I’ve shot big game and I’ve come out of tight corners once or twice without turning a hair. That’s why I don’t understand this.”
“Good!” the doctor exclaimed. “That confirms me in what I was saying. Square up to it, man! Don’t be all the time flinching away, like you are now. Look at it. Look at it with me, arm in arm. It is just a damned but wonderful representation of wickedness. There is nothing alive about it, except its art. It isn’t going to do you any harm, and it isn’t going to do me any harm. Let it stay where it is.”
Ballaston fastened his tie slowly, considering the advice thoughtfully.
“You mean that, Doctor?” he demanded. “You see, when I’m sane, I have the utmost respect and—I can say it to you—affection for Miss Endacott. She’s only a child, of course, but she’s wonderful. It’s such a horrible thought that I might——”
“Chuck it!” the doctor interrupted tersely. “You won’t. Remember, if you give way now you will give way all your life. Come in and have a last drink with me before you turn in to-night and I bet you’ll be jolly glad you’ve stuck it out.—I must get along now. Got a patient expecting me before dinner.”
He swung off, large, buoyant, diffusing an atmosphere of confidence. Gregory finished his dressing, strolled along the deck, and found Mrs. Hichens and Claire. He took them all into the little lounge where they drank cocktails together. Gregory was suddenly in joyous spirits, and Claire thoroughly responsive. They made plans for the next few days and ended up with a race round the deck, the course being kept clear by a little handful of amused passengers. The captain, coming upon them, breathless, just as the bugle sounded, invited Gregory to his table for dinner, and Gregory, his unsociability altogether dispersed, proved a most attractive guest. Of his own exploits he tried to talk as little as possible, but the Ballastons had been a family well known in sporting and political circles for generations, and there were plenty of anecdotes to be told of English life for Claire’s amusement. A general engaged him in kindly reminiscences of France, and he found an old Etonian, and a junior diplomat on his way home from Japan. They sat at table until long after the others had left, and the music had already commenced when they trooped up the gangway.