“Will you eat?” she asked.
“I have just dined.”
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Nothing, thank you.”
“Then I will shut the door. We have much to arrange, have we not?”
“Yes, nurse. We can talk over the progress of events and all that is likely to follow, but not to-night, nurse.”
Clara Ives held up her hand.
“Why do you stop me? What is the matter?” said Tarbot.
“From this moment,” she replied, “we drop that word nurse. It signifies servitude, and I’m a servant no longer.”
“We’re both servants to the noble cause of science,” said Tarbot with a light laugh. “It’s no disgrace to be a servant, my good creature.”