“I am upset, Sarson,” he declared. “Come and feel my pulse quickly. That woman has upset me.”
“Miss Price?”
“Miss Price, d—n it! Lucy—yes!”
“It seems unlike her,” the doctor remarked. “I have never heard her utter a useless syllable in my life.”
Mr. Fentolin held out his wrist.
“It’s what she doesn’t say,” he muttered.
The doctor produced his watch. In less than a minute he put it away.
“This is quite unnecessary,” he pronounced. “Your pulse is wonderful.”
“Not hurried? No signs of palpitation?”
“You have seven or eight footmen, all young men,” Doctor Sarson replied drily. “I will wager that there isn’t one of them has a pulse so vigorous as yours.”