"Do you think I shall faint again? These faints are so unpleasant—really I don't think"—she paused, and when she resumed her voice sounded still deeper, with a true contralto note—"I don't think even death itself can be much more horrible. The sensation of falling, of sinking through the earth——"
She broke off, and he hastened to reply.
"I don't think you need anticipate any further trouble to-night. I suppose you have had your heart sounded?"
Again she smiled; and once more he could have sworn there was mockery in her smile.
"Yes. But I don't think my heart is wrong. It—it is due to other causes——"
She stopped abruptly as the door opened, and the woman came in, carrying the hot-water bottle for which she had been sent.
"That you, Tochatti?" She seemed to welcome the interruption. "Thank you so much." She let the servant fuss over her for a moment, then turned to Anstice. "You see," she said, "I am well looked after."
"I am glad you are," he rejoined promptly. "You know you are really in need of a little care at present. If you will allow me, I should like to sound your heart myself."
She acquiesced rather wearily; and having satisfied himself that the state in which he found her was due rather to weakness than to any specific disease, he turned to the strangely named woman, whom he now guessed to be a foreigner, and gave her a few directions for the night.
"I'll see to it, sir," she said quietly; and Anstice knew his orders would be faithfully carried out.