‘Of course. Everything goes together. You understand—a woman’s youth, and accordingly her looks, depends entirely on——’
The partner launched into a rapid explanation which was only saved from being excessively improper by its technical language. Dr. Sanguesa sat silent, his elbows on the arms of his revolving chair, his finger-tips together. He looked a remote, unfriended, melancholy man, rather like the pictures she had seen of Napoleon III., with dark shadows under his heavy eyes and a waxen skin. Every now and then his sad mouth opened, and he said quite automatically, ‘We will see,’ and shut it again.
She wanted to begin at once. It appeared she must be examined first, to find out if she could stand the treatment. This rather frightened her again. Why? How? Was the treatment so severe? What was it?
‘We will see,’ said Dr. Sanguesa, nodding.
The partner became voluble, waving his hands about. Not at all—not at all severe; a matter of X-rays merely; but sometimes, if a woman’s heart was weak——
Catherine said she was sure her heart wasn’t weak.
‘We will see,’ said Dr. Sanguesa, mechanically nodding.
‘The examination is three guineas,’ said the partner.
‘Three more, or three of the same ones?’ asked Catherine, rather stupidly.
‘We will s——’