He was a thin, grey man for whom she entertained privately a certain feeling of contempt. She was so sure her own husband would have somehow managed the case better. He came to the bedside, and looked at Stella, looked closely; then turned to her friend watching beside her.
"I wonder if it would disturb her to see her husband for a moment," he said.
Mrs. Ralston suppressed a start with difficulty. "Is he here?" she whispered.
"Just arrived," he murmured back, and turned again to look at Stella who lay motionless with closed eyes, scarcely seeming to breathe.
Mrs. Ralston's whisper smote the silence, and it was the doctor's turn to start. "Send him in at once!" she said.
So insistent was her command that he stood up as if he had been prodded into action. Mrs. Ralston was on her feet. She waved an urgent hand.
"Go and get him!" she ordered almost fiercely. "It's the only chance left. Go and fetch him!"
He looked at her doubtfully for a second, then, impelled by an authority that overrode every scruple, he turned in silence and tiptoed from the room.
Mrs. Ralston's eyes followed him with scorn. How was it some doctors managed—notwithstanding all their experience—to be such hopeless idiots?
The soft opening of the door again a few seconds later banished her irritation. She turned with shining welcome in her look, and met Monck with outstretched hands.