It was exactly what she did mean. Olga had been growing steadily worse all day. Yet when abruptly he turned to leave her, Muriel laid a hasty hand upon his arm.
"Nick," she said, and her voice was almost imploring, "don't go in!
Please don't go in!"
He stopped short. "Why not?"
She removed her hand quickly. "It's so dangerous—besides being unnecessary. Won't you be sensible about it?"
He gave his head a queer upward jerk, and stood as one listening, not looking at her. "What for?"
She could not think of any very convincing reason for the moment. Yet it was imperative that he should see the matter as she saw it.
"Suppose I had not had it," she ventured, "what would you have done?"
"Packed you off to the cottage again double quick," said Nick promptly.
It was the answer she had angled for. She seized upon it. "Well, tell me why."
He spun round on his heels and faced her. He was blinking very rapidly. "You asked me that question once before," he said. "And out of a sentimental consideration for your feelings—I didn't answer it. Do you really want an answer this time, or shall I go on being sentimentally considerate?"