“She’s there––with him,” he said at length.

“There? Where?” thundered Huntington.

“At his house.”

They stood stock-still, staring at him.

“She wishes Mrs. Huntington to make up a bundle of these things for me to take to her.”

He handed the list to Claire, who took it, and held it at arm’s length, regarding it curiously, as if she had not understood.

“You mean that––” she began, and stopped.

“She says she’s going to nurse him.”

“She’s going to––what?” Claire’s voice rose almost to a shriek.

“Nurse him.”