"He's in pretty bad shape, but I guess we can pull him round, all right. But I need your help. You were going out?"
She met his eyes steadily. "I was only waiting to hear how he was. I've got to hurry off to the theatre. I'm late now. If we miss the performance tonight, we may lose our booking. And he's just been held up—all we've got's what's coming to us next Saturday."
"I see. And you can do without him?"
"His understudy'll take his part—we'll manage somehow."
"Then I am afraid I shall have to call in assistance—a trained nurse."
"Do, please, doctor."
"Very well."
He moved toward the telephone.
"I'll be back in about an hour."
"Very well, Mrs. Quard."