"Now?" she asked eagerly.
"Yes, now," said Dr. Jim.
He rose with the words and went out of the room, leaving her struggling to fulfil his condition.
She thought he would return to satisfy himself on this point, but he did not. When the door opened again it was to admit Nick alone.
She held out her arms to him, and in a second he was beside her, holding her fast.
"My poor little chicken!" he said, and though there seemed to be a laugh in his voice she fancied he was in some fashion more moved than she.
"They've cut off all my hair, Nick," she said. "That's the worst of scarlet fever, isn't it?"
"Hair will grow again, sweetheart," he said. "At least, yours will. Mine won't. I'm going as bald as a coot."
They laughed together over this calamity which was becoming undeniably obvious.
"You never did have much thatch, did you, Nick?" she said. "And I suppose India has spoilt what little you had."