“At present,” said Tarbot, speaking very slowly, “he is quite well, but within a few days he will be ill. I shall send for you; you will nurse him.”
“And——?” said the woman.
Tarbot went forward and began to whisper in her ear. Nurse Ives had a dead-white complexion. As the doctor spoke, her face turned ghastly.
“You want me to connive at a crime?” she said.
Tarbot winced, then he said “Yes.”
“Is this matter very important to you?”
“It is life or death to me—life or death.”
The surgeon rubbed his hands slowly one inside the other; his eyes were fixed on the eyes of the nurse. She looked back at him. Then she spoke.
“I will do what you require, on a condition.”
“What is that?”