"As a diagnostician, Jack, let me remind you that your conclusions have been erroneous more than once." Mrs. Atterbury raised her eyebrows significantly. "As for Mortie Dana, we have every reason to believe that he will pull through. The doctor's report is highly satisfactory, although of course he is likely to be quarantined for some time to come."
"That would seem to be a foregone conclusion." Wolvert was in no wise abashed by the snubbing he had received. "Louise is in no danger of contagion, however, and the change of air will do her good."
Betty could not repress a little gleam of interest. She had wondered why Mrs. Dana did not come again to the house, but had not previously heard of her departure from town.
"Personally, I shall be pleased if she remains away indefinitely." Madame Cimmino shrugged. "She gets upon one's nerves, with her hysterics. One never knows when she may make a scene."
"To say nothing of the possibility of contagion—" Wolvert caught his hostess' eye and turned in obvious haste to Doctor Bayard. "But of whom were you speaking just now, Doctor, who has gone to pieces?"
The doctor held his wineglass up to the light and gazed into its amber depths reflectively as he replies.
"My old friend—Cote. I had heard depressing reports of his mental condition, but I would not believe them until I had investigated personally." He shook his venerable head. "I returned only a few days ago from a visit to him and I seriously fear that his usefulness is passed. He is unable to handle his financial affairs and his permanent retirement is all that can be looked for."
"But surely the others in his firm will assume his obligations!" Wolvert's bantering tone had sharpened. "It is almost as vital to them that his affairs should be straightened out as it was to him. They must be made to understand the situation."
"You talk like a child!" exclaimed Madame Cimmino. "What is to prevent them from going into voluntary bankruptcy, now that he is incapacitated? Others have done that before, when driven to the wall."
Betty sat with downcast eyes and a politely detached air but her hands were clenched tightly in her lap and her breath came quickly. If those about her at the luncheon table remembered her presence they must have believed their conversation unintelligible to her, yet every word was fraught with meaning, and she waited with leaping pulses for the next disclosure.