Tristram nodded.
"That's all I have to say, then."
He made his way from the bungalow, circuiting the front verandah where he guessed Mrs. Boucicault would wait for him, to the compound gates. There Sigrid Fersen with the Rajah's dog-cart awaited him. She bent towards him, her face white with anger.
"How could you, Major Tristram! I guessed somehow you had come here and followed you. How could you do it?"
"I had to," he answered. He came up to the step of the cart, trying to support himself against the shaft unseen by her. "I had to," he repeated.
"A professional visit, I suppose?" she flashed scornfully.
"In a sort of way—yes."
"Well, anyhow—try and climb if you've the strength. I'll drive you back to bed."
He looked up at her and she frowned and bit her under lip to keep back an exclamation.
"Please—will you do something for me?"