"Better, dear. Go back in your room and lie down. We are doing all we can."
When James entered the office Gordon and Mrs. Blair turned with one accord, and fixed horribly searching eyes upon his face. He sat down beside the table, and mechanically lit a cigar.
"How did she seem?" Gordon asked almost inaudibly.
"Better."
"Was she quiet?"
"Yes."
Gordon gave a long sigh. His face was deadly white. He leaned back in his chair, and both James and the nurse sprang. They thought he had fainted. While James felt his pulse Mrs. Blair got some brandy. Gordon swallowed the brandy, and raised his head.
"It is nothing," he said in a harsh voice. "You had better go back to her, Mrs. Blair."
A look of strange dread came over the woman's grave face.
"I will be there directly," said Gordon.