The blood rose to Maud's pale face in a great wave. She was about to speak, when a voice at her shoulder spoke for her.
"I am sure Lady Saltash will be charmed to do so. But I think the face must be excluded. That can scarcely be of any anatomical interest to you."
Maud started. Saltash's hand gripped her elbow for a moment and instantly relaxed. He did not speak to her. The young American glanced back at the face of the statue, stared at it for a second, then looked again at Maud. She saw his thin black brows rise ever so slightly.
"The face is certainly of interest," he said, speaking with evident caution; "but not, as you say, my lord, from an anatomical point of view."
He withdrew himself with the words, seemed as it were to became Capper's background, while Saltash sauntered forward to offer refreshment.
Capper asked for coffee and smoked a cigarette. He sat in an ungainly attitude by the fire while these were in process of consumption, and spoke scarcely at all. Maud stood near him in silence, chafing at the delay, yet dreading unspeakably the moment when it should be at an end.
Saltash lounged smoking on a settee with Dr. Burrowes of Fairharbour, and chatted cheerily about local matters with one eye on the great American surgeon who sat cracking his long fingers so abstractedly before the fire.
Suddenly Capper turned his head and looked up at Maud. "Where is Jake?"
"He is coming," she made answer.
"Coming! Why? Does the boy want him? Is he nervous any?"