“I'm afraid Mrs. Silverdale may have got infected too. What about Mr. Hassendean?”
The maid considered for a moment before answering.
“I didn't notice anything strange about Mr. Hassendean, sir. Unless, perhaps, he did seem a bit nervous—high-strung like, I thought. But I'd never have paid attention to it if you hadn't asked me the question.”
Dr. Ringwood made a gesture of approval, inwardly thanking his stars for the lay public's ignorance of diseases.
“And then they went off together?”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Hassendean took the cloak from Mrs. Silverdale and put it over her shoulders. Then he took her arm and they went out to his car. It was waiting in front of the door.”
“H'm! I suppose the housemaid hadn't touched the cloak to-day?”
“Oh, no, sir. She'd been in Mrs. Silverdale's room, of course; but she wouldn't have any reason to go near the cloak.”
Dr. Ringwood feigned a difficulty in recollection.
“Hassendean! I surely know him. Isn't he about my height, fair, with a small moustache?”