"Because I want to talk to you."
"You can do that to-morrow," bluntly rejoined Dr. Jim. "You can't afford to sacrifice your sleep to chatter."
"I am not sacrificing any sleep," Muriel told him rather wearily. "I never sleep before morning."
He laid down his pen and gave her one of his hard looks. "Then you are a very silly girl," he said curtly at length.
"It isn't my fault," she protested.
He shrugged his shoulders. "You all say that. It's the most ordinary lie I know."
Muriel smiled. "I know you are longing to give me something nasty. You may if you like. I'll take it, whatever it is."
Dr. Jim was silent for a space. He continued to regard her steadily, with a scrutiny that spared her nothing. She sat quite still under it. He had never disconcerted her yet. But when he leaned suddenly forward and took her wrist between his fingers, she made a slight, instinctive effort to frustrate him.
"Be still," he ordered. "What makes you so absurdly nervous? Want of sleep, eh?"
Her lips trembled a little. "Don't probe too deep, doctor," she pleaded. "I am not very happy just now."