"Thanks for the implication." Cyril bowed sarcastically.
"The more I observed Mrs. Thompkins," continued the doctor, "the more I became convinced that a severe shock was responsible for her amnesia, and that she had never been insane nor was she at all likely to become so."
"Even physicians are occasionally mistaken in their diagnosis, I have been told."
"You are right; that is why I have given you the benefit of the doubt," replied the doctor calmly. "This morning, however, I made a discovery, which practically proves that my suspicions were not unfounded."
"And pray what is this great discovery of yours?" drawled Cyril.
"I had been worrying about this case all night, when it suddenly occurred to me to consult the peerage. I wanted to find out who Lady Wilmersley's people were, so that I might communicate with them if I considered it necessary. The first thing I found was that your wife was born in 18—, so that now she is in her twenty-eighth year. My patient is certainly not more than twenty. How do you account for this discrepancy in their ages?"
Cyril forced himself to smile superciliously.
"And is my wife's youthful appearance your only reason for doubting her identity?"
The doctor seemed a little staggered by Cyril's nonchalant manner.
"It is my chief reason, but as I have just taken the trouble to explain, not my only one."