He nodded.
“But when?—how?”
“I don’t know. At dinner yesterday she acted queerly. The tears kept coming to her eyes without any reason——”
“Before you go any further,” I interrupted him, “tell me if this was after the doctor had seen her?”
“Yes, and he practically confirmed all you said. He laid great stress on her being spared all agitation, and advised a course of baths at Nauheim.”
“Her tears, then, were probably caused by worrying over her condition,” I said.
“I don’t think so, for the doctor was very careful to reassure her, and I had not even mentioned that we were to go abroad. No, it was something else, I’m sure.” He paused. I wondered if anything I had said during our short walk had upset her.
“I suggested going to a roof garden,” continued Atkins, “and she acquiesced enthusiastically, and after that was over she insisted on a supper at Rector’s. It was pretty late when we got home, and we both went immediately to bed. Now, I assure you that ever since she fainted on Wednesday I have been most affectionate towards her. I had determined to bury my suspicions, and my anxiety for her health helped me to do so. She responded very tenderly to my caresses, but I could see that she was still as depressed as before, although she tried her best to hide it from me. I tell you all this so that you may know that nothing occurred yesterday between us that could have caused her to leave me, and yet that is what she has done.”
He buried his head in his arms. I laid my hand on his shoulder.
“Tell me the rest, old man.”