Jeanie was very white, but she looked at him bravely. "Do you mind?" she said.
His dark eyes smiled encouragement. "No, of course I don't mind if I can be of any use to you. Tudor will probably want to kick me out, but if you have the smallest desire to keep me, I'll stay."
"You are kind," said Jeanie very earnestly. "I think it will help me to be brave if I may hold your hand. You have such a strong hand."
"It is entirely at your service," said Piers.
He turned in his chair at the doctor's entrance, without rising. His attitude was decidedly dogged. He looked as if he anticipated a struggle.
Dr. Tudor came in behind Avery. He was a man of forty, curt of speech and short of temper, with eyes that gleamed shrewdly behind gold pince-nez. He gave Piers a look that was conspicuously lacking in cordiality.
"Hullo!" he said. "You here!"
"Yes, I'm here," said Piers.
The doctor's eyes passed him and went straight to the white face of the child on the sofa. He advanced and bent over her.
"So you've had an accident, eh?" he said.