"No, you don't. That is just where the art comes in. You are not noticeable one way or the other. It is admirable. And now you had better be going."
The nurse peered into the hall.
"There is no one about just now. I will take Mrs. Thompkins to the front door. If we are seen, it will be supposed that she is some friend of mine who has been calling on me. I will watch till I see her safely in the car," the nurse assured him.
"Thanks."
"By the way, as I have to pretend not to know of my patient's departure, I had better not return till you have left."
"All right. Good-bye, nurse. I shall stay here a quarter of an hour so as to give you a good start. Good-bye, my dear."
The next fifteen minutes seemed to Cyril the longest he had ever spent. He did not even dare to follow Priscilla's progress from the window. Watch in hand he waited till the time was up and then made his way cautiously out of the house without, as luck would have it, encountering any one.
The taxi was no longer in sight! With a light heart Cyril walked briskly to the doctor's office.
"Well, Lord Wilmersley, what brings you here?" asked the doctor, when Cyril was finally ushered into the august presence.
"I have called to tell you that my wife has left the nursing home," Cyril blurted out.