“Can’t you guess?” asked his sister shortly. “Well, if you can’t I’ll not tell you. If you don’t want that coffee, let’s go home.”
“But surely you’ll stay—with her?”
“No, I’ll not. I’m not sure I’ll ever enter this house again. Please come. I’ll make coffee for you at home.”
“Very well. Certainly.”
And with his brows still drawn and his mind racing he followed his sister out of the house.
CHAPTER XV
Gita blinked at the sunlight in astonishment. She had believed she was in for another wakeful night; and she remembered nothing but tearing off her clothes and flinging herself into bed—not caring if she never brushed her teeth again, nor washed her face. She must have fallen asleep at once!
She preferred not to think at present, and there was safety in routine. She put on her dressing-gown and went down the hall to one of the two bathrooms the manor house boasted. Very ugly and unluxurious bathrooms, installed in the nineteenth century. After a cold shower her brain felt disconcertingly clear, but she hummed a tune and rubbed herself into a glow.
As she left the bathroom she met the nurse in the hall.
“How is the patient?” she asked politely.