"Tastes rather horrible, eh?" he said with a smile, "but you feel better, don't you?"
"Yes, thank you," answered Jacqueline, weakly. "I don't suffer at all. It's my strength—I feel so—weak!"
"Your strength will come back fast enough!" he assured her heartily. "I'll tell you what we'll do! I shall take you to my house in Biarritz! There I can look after you comfortably and easily, and you'll be around in no time!"
"Oh, doctor!" she cried, a grateful catch in her voice. "You are too kind! But it's impossible. I should be in the way."
"Not the least bit in the world!" he replied briskly. "The house is a big comfortable sort of a barn. I live there all alone, excepting an elderly sister, and she will be only too happy to have you. You'll be with friends there; for, although you don't know it, my sister and I have been your friends for a long time."
"My friends?" she repeated, with a little questioning smile.
"He saved Raymond's life, you know," explained Noel, quickly. The expression of Jacqueline's face altered in a moment to one of unutterable gratitude. She seized his hand and kissed it passionately.
"Doctor, I—I—cannot thank you!" she murmured brokenly.
The doctor gently disengaged his hand and stepped back, turning his face away. The pity of the scene had all but overcome the well-schooled emotions of the man of medicine.
"He and his sister did all they could to console Floriot," whispered Noel; "the poor chap was broken-hearted."