“I have told Hawkins,” she said quietly.
Hawkins' hand tightened over Paul Veniza's for a moment, and then he turned away.
“I—I'll wait outside,” said Hawkins—and brushed has hand across his eyes as he went through the doorway.
Paul Veniza was racked with a sudden fit of coughing again. Doctor Crang walked quickly to the couch and looked at the other sharply. After a moment he turned to Claire.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked crisply.
“Yes; I am ready,” she answered steadily.
“Very well, then,” said Crang, “you had better go out and get into the old bus. You can go with Hawkins and me.”
“But”—Claire looked in a bewildered way at Paul Veniza—“but you said——”
“I know I did,” Crang interrupted brusquely, “but we're all here a little early and there's lots of time to countermand the other car.” He indicated Paul Veniza with a jerk of his head. “He's far from as well as he was last night. At least you'll admit that I'm a good doctor, and when I tell you he is not fit to go this morning that ought to be enough for both of you. I'll phone and tell them not to send the limousine.”
Still Claire hesitated. Paul Veniza had closed his eyes.