"Nothing." His gloom dropped upon him again like a mantle. "Have you been at Khanmulla all day?"
"Yes; a confounded waste of time it's been too." Ralston took a deep drink and set down his glass.
"You always think it's a waste of time if you can't be doctoring somebody," muttered Tommy.
"Don't be offensive!" said Ralston. "I know what's the matter with you, my son, but I should keep it to myself if I were you. As a matter of fact I did give medical advice to somebody this afternoon—which of course he won't take."
Tommy's face was suddenly scarlet. It was solely the maternal protective instinct that induced Mrs. Ralston to bend forward and speak.
"Do you mean Captain Monck, Gerald?" she asked.
Major Ralston cast a comprehensive glance around the little group assembled near him, finishing his survey upon Tommy's burning countenance. "Yes—Monck," he said. "He's staying with Barnes at Khanmulla to see this affair through. If I were Mrs. Monck I should be pretty anxious about him. He says it's insomnia."
"Is he ill?" It was Tommy who spoke, his voice quick and low, all the sullen embarrassment gone from his demeanour.
The doctor's eyes dwelt upon him for a moment longer before he answered. "I never saw such a change in any man in such a short time. He'll have a bad break-down if he doesn't watch out."
"He works too hard," said Mrs. Ralston sympathetically.