Dr. Pelham emerged from the house and joined her. She wished she were actress enough to feign wifely anxiety.
“How is he?” she asked, and knew that her tones were flat.
“Well enough, so far. There’s always danger of infection, in spite of every precaution. I shall watch him, of course.”
“You’ll stay on, then?”
“Certainly. He’s my patient, to say nothing of old friendship. I have a vacation due me, and I’ll take it now.”
They were both as emotional as the garden slugs, regarding each other as if their slender past were obliterated.
“Tell Elsie to come along and not be a fool,” she said. “She’d be a brute to leave me alone. I don’t want to sit there all by myself, eaten up with remorse, and if you’ve put him to sleep we can talk.”
His eyes, which had been almost blank, became keen once more. He opened his mouth as if to ask an irresistible question, then turned on his heel and was gone.
CHAPTER XVI
When Eustace had arrived with his luggage on the day after the wedding, Gita, anxious to make every amend for her thoughtlessness, had given him the state bedroom, Mrs. Carteret’s. One of the baths had been installed in the dressing-room and he had that side of the house to himself.