"I am very glad to see you, my dear Hatteras," he said. "It is kind of you to take pity on my loneliness. If you don't mind sitting down for a few moments, and lighting a cigar—you'll find the box on the table—I shall have finished this, and then we can talk."
"But I am afraid I can't wait," I answered. "I have come on the most important business. There is not a moment to lose."
"In that case I am to suppose that Miss Trevor is worse," he said, putting down the bottle from which he had been pouring, and afterwards replacing the glass stopper with the same hand. "I was afraid it might be so."
"How do you know that she is ill?" I asked, not a little surprised to hear that he was aware of our trouble.
"I manage to know a good many things," he replied. "I was aware that she was ill, and have been wondering how long it would be before I was called in. The other doctors don't like my interference, I suppose?"
"They certainly do not," I answered. "But they have done no good for her."
"And you think I may be able to help you?" he inquired, looking at me over the graduating glass with his strange, dark eyes.
"I certainly do," I replied.
"I am your debtor for the compliment."
"And you will come?"