"No one could hear anything. The grounds are too extensive," he said, answering my unspoken thought. "That must be the doctor. He lives only a short distance from here."
Much as I disliked him I could have blessed him for those words, for already the plan to keep the police from questioning Ruth that night was simmering in my brain.
"Bring him here at once," I commanded, and Orton slipped noiselessly from the room.
I heard him opening the front door, heard the sound of voices apparently in consultation, and then the doctor's step upon the stair. I had expected an old family physician. The man who stepped briskly across the threshold was small and slight, almost a boy in years, yet having an air of knowing his business to perfection. Without ostentation, and also without asking needless questions, he examined Ruth quietly and attentively while I explained that she was suffering from the shock of having discovered her husband's murdered body.
"And, Doctor, could you not give her an opiate to insure a perfect night's rest," I added in a lower tone.
He gave me a swift appraising glance from his keen eyes, then as if satisfied, nodded to himself.
"Yes, I think you are right. It is far more important to save her reason than that the police should have the satisfaction of questioning her."
As he administered the dose to the now conscious girl I mentally decided that there was not very much that escaped this young doctor's observation.
"Is there no one to stay with Mrs. Darwin?" he inquired in a dissatisfied tone. "Where is her maid?"
"She sleeps in the servants' wing, Dr. Haskins," replied Orton.